#her names margie shes really nice

[sissylittlefeather]

I finished it! This is part of my main Elvis x fem!reader series. It goes between Baby, What's Your Name and Always, Honey. I'm sorry I'm writing these all out of order, but this is just the way they've come out of me. As always, feel free to imagine Elvis or Austin!Elvis. Let me know if you like it!

I really look forward to interacting with people who read my stuff, so feel free to drop me a note 😁

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, etc etc etc

Goodnight, Sweetheart

There's a quiet but urgent knock on your dorm room door. You turn and look at Margie.

"Were you expecting someone?" She shakes her head.

"Nope." You shrug. Oh well, maybe it's someone with the wrong room number. As you walk to the door, the knocking gets more urgent and you start to get a little nervous.

You pull open the door and Elvis steps into the room, closing the door quickly behind him.

"Elvis, what are you doing here?! How did you get in here?!" This is a girls' dorm on campus at an all-girls college.

"Hey, I'm Elvis Presley. I make magic happen, baby." He holds your face in his hands and kisses you deeply. Margie clears her throat, slides her shoes on, and collects her purse.

"I suddenly remembered that I need to be somewhere." She slips out of the room, shooting you a wink on her way out. Since you hooked up with Elvis after his show two weeks ago, she hasn't let you talk about anything else.

"She seems like a good roommate." Elvis laughs in a way that seems to fill the room up with joy. He walks over to your bed and flops himself down in a half sitting, half laying position.

"So, darlin', what have you been up to since I saw ya last?" Your heart flutters at the sight of him on your bedspread. He seems to have grown into his manhood in the time since you were together. Or maybe you're just acutely aware of it because you're the one who made him a man. Either way, the real answer to his question is that you've been missing him desperately. Even though you only had the one night together, it was quite a night, and you've thought about it every day since. Still, you never expected to see him again.

"Oh, just this and that. Going to class and such." You walk over and sit down on the other side of your bed. He reaches out and moves your hair behind your ear.

"My little studious sweetheart."

Your heart skips several beats. Did he just call you his sweetheart? But he probably calls everyone his sweetheart. You start to wonder how many girls he's been with since his first time with you. Two weeks likely feels like a lifetime in his fast-paced world.

"What about you? Played a lot of shows?"

"That's an understatement. Sometimes we do 3 or 4 a day."

"Oh wow. You must be exhausted." He smiles and picks up your hand, kissing the back of it gently. Your stomach flip-flops with the feeling of his lips on you. Still, you pull your eyebrows together in a frown.

"Elvis, why are you here?"

"Can't a guy come see a pretty girl when he has a moment of free time?" He puts on his stage smile and winks at you.

"Elvis. Really. I never expected to see you again."

His face falls and he looks down at your hand in his. He seems to be contemplating whether he should give you a real answer. He turns your hand over and presses his lips to the center of your palm.

"I missed you." He mumbles into your hand. A warm smile spreads across your face.

"You did?"

"I really did. I've thought about you every day for the past two weeks. All those nights in hotel rooms alone after shows... I just wished I knew how to get a hold of you." So he wasn't with a bunch of girls. Another thought pops into your head.

"How did you find me?" He does a sheepish grin.

"I-I I called the school and told them I wanted to send you flowers. And I really did want to! But then I decided to just come over here instead." You laugh and lean against him on the bed.

"Flowers are nice, but this is better."

His eyes darken and he puts his hand in your hair, holding the back of your head.

"I agree." He leans in and kisses you passionately, parting your lips just enough to slide his tongue into your mouth. You grab the front of his jacket and pull him toward you, leaning fully into his kiss. He lays you down on the bed next to him, leaning over you to keep kissing you, his hand moving up and down your hip and stomach. He pulls back from the kiss and looks you in the eyes, seemingly asking for permission to touch you more. You put your hand on his and slide it up to your chest. That's all the permission he needs. Now his hand is under your sweater and bra, his thumb grazing your nipple. You sit up and pull the sweater over your head and off. He removes your bra a lot easier this time. You push his jacket off of his shoulders and go to work unbuttoning his black lace shirt. This whole time, you're kissing anytime you can, your lips meeting in a blend of tenderness and passion. He starts kissing down your face, then your neck, then your body until he gets to your breasts. He playfully teases your nipples with his tongue. He's a lot bolder in his exploration of your body this time around and you revel in the pleasure of his mouth and hands on you. Eventually, he unzips your skirt and slides it down your thighs, going immediately back up to do the same with your panties. He stops and laughs a little when he gets to them, though.

"What?"

"I'm just thinking about you throwing these on the stage. You know you started something. It happens all the time now."

"Oh, it does?" Your voice catches a little and he notices. He looks at you thoughtfully.

"Yours are the only ones I've ever kept, though." Warmth spreads through you at the thought of him only wanting to hold onto yours. He goes back to pulling your panties down, slowly sliding them down your legs and over your feet. He holds your foot in his hand and softly kisses your ankle. Then, he makes his way up your leg, dropping his lips periodically to plant soft kisses on your calf and thigh. He kisses the inside of your other thigh and then looks up at you smiling, like he's had an idea. You're not sure where he's going with all this kissing, but you love the feeling of his lips on your skin, so you don't argue. Finally, he lowers his head and kisses you right on your center.

"Oh!" You let out a small gasp. No one has ever put their mouth there before and the sensation was delicious. When he hears the sound you make, he smiles and does it again, this time lingering a little longer on you. You arch your back and a small moan escapes your lips. He's thoroughly enjoying the effect this is having, so when he does it a third time he adds his tongue to the mix, moving it like you instructed him to move his thumb last time.

"Elvis, fuck!" You cry out, overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth on you. You've never experienced pleasure like this before and you know you won't last long if he keeps this up. He pulls back from you for a second and you try to catch your breath. He tilts his head to the side, watching your chest heaving as you gasp for air. Then, he takes two fingers and slides them into you as he dips his head down and licks you hard again. He continues pushing his fingers into you as he makes circles with his tongue.

"OH GOD!" You grab the top of his hair and grind into him uncontrollably as your climax slams into you, pushing electric bolts of ecstasy out to your fingertips and back again to the place where his tongue is still moving. His fingers become inexplicably wetter and your legs shake.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" You continue to cry out. Finally he pulls back, laughing.

"Nah, it's still just Elvis." You explode into a cascade of giggles both at what he just said and the way he just made you feel.

"Where did you learn that?" You ask, still breathing heavily.

"Well, I'd heard of it before, but I just really wanted to kiss you there and you liked it so much I didn't stop."

"Never stop." You laugh and he laughs with you again.

"Was it too much? Did I knock you out?"

"Oh no." You look at him playfully, "Get up here and finish what you started."

You move to take his pants off, but your hands are trembling. He stands up and lets them fall to the floor, climbing back on top of you excitedly. He puts one hand on either side of your head and leans in to kiss you deeply, rolling his hips forward and pushing his erection against your leg. You whimper a little at the feeling of him being so close to where you want him. Finally, he reaches down and lines himself up with you. You're about to go crazy with need while he takes his time. You can tell by the smirk on his face that he's having fun driving you wild.

"What do you want, baby?"

You moan into his mouth and manage to whisper, "you... I want you..."

He kisses you one last time before he pushes into you as deep as he can. This time you moan together, your foreheads pressed against each other, and he picks up a steady rhythm. Your sweat mixes with his as your bodies move in tandem. He slides in and out of you, pushing deeper and deeper, his hips slamming against yours. His length is exactly right to hit the most sensitive places inside of you. After a few minutes in this position, he rolls over onto his back and smiles at you, ready for you to get on top, since it's what you did last time.

"Uh-uh. Sit up." You gesture for him to scoot back. He moves to sit with his back against the wall at the head of your bed, excitement in his eyes. You put your hands on his shoulders and a knee on either side of his hips, lowering yourself onto him. He moans as he slides into you slowly and deeply. The difference in position is subtle, but it's enough for him to notice.

"Mmmm" he closes his eyes, leans his head back, and bites his lower lip. You lean in and kiss him on the cheek while you move up and down on him. He smiles, but keeps his eyes closed. You stop bouncing and start grinding your hips into him, rolling back and forth, pushing him deeper and deeper.

"Oh fuck, baby." His eyes pop open and he watches you move, bringing his hands up to cup your breasts and then run down your rib cage to your hips.

"Honey, I'm close," he whispers into your hair. Without further warning, he flips you over again and pounds into you, kissing your neck and shoulders as he does. You wrap your legs around him, feeling the heat of his skin on yours. Finally, he cries out, cussing loudly and shuddering into you.

He kisses you on the lips and jaw and neck and then lays his head on your chest. You lay there together, breathing heavily, you running your fingers through his hair. After a while, you realize his breathing is measured and steady. He's fallen asleep on your chest. You smile to yourself. He really must've been tired. Hopefully, Margie found somewhere else to stay tonight because it doesn't look like he's going anywhere any time soon. You gently roll him off of you onto his back and sneak away to the bathroom. When you come back, you slide your panties back on and slip into bed with him, snuggling into his shoulder. Just as you're about to drift off to sleep, you feel his lips on your forehead.

"Goodnight, sweetheart..."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taglist: @itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101

Want to be added to the Taglist? Let me know!

[weirdo09]

No because i do not get why Gwen stans of all people hate Margo😭I mean i KNOW why(misogynoir)but it makes zero sense because Margo wasn't even mean to Gwen when she pulled that leash shit on Miles and makin' her a bitch is crazy because if anything she's TOO nice.Every day i wish biblically accurate angel Gwen(lightskin biracial afrolatina Gwen)was canon so snowbunnies and picks mes wouldn't stan her and then i could be a Gwen kinnie in peace and see more Ghostbyte/Pink Emulator(/sisterly name i gave them).On a lighter note i have some Margo hcs:She's from bronx,a bookworm,has pink as a special interest,is transmasc genderfluid but so femme she dosen't wanna physically transition and uses she/he/they/sparkle/pix/strawb pronouns,she's fat,know as 'the loser girl' at school and her favorite food is loaded chili fries!!

YESS OMG like I was so mad when people would be sitting there making jokes about Gwen killing Margo cause “she was all up on her man” like yo, get a grip, Margo was just being nice and they was havin a lil cute cute moment then Gwen had to come and make it a problem 😭 like biblically accurate gwen would fix so many problems oml but her and margie would be besties <3

I hate Gwen’s stans so much because they literally want gwen to hurt margo for no reason and act like gwen is a better choice for miles with no evidence like just say you hate black love and move enough cause miles and Margo is more interesting to me than romantic Gwen and miles, they just friends besides how you gonna date somebody you hardly know fr? 🤔

but anyway, those hcs are so cute, I personally hc her to be from my state, virginia cause a lotta haitians move here n yeah besides it’s so beautiful hehe ^_^

she games while watching the go home thingy? and I love this one hc I saw of where they was like she makes copies of herself to avoid meetings, it’s priceless! I hc her gender identity to be genderfluid cause yes yes, I honestly really felt so happy when I saw Margo cause of her tooth gap, everybody wanna talk about gwen’s but margo’s is super !!! I love drawing her gap even though it’s been a good minute since I’ve drawn her, but that’s literally my wife y’all !!!! fat Margo makes the world go around because black women do n like yes >:)

[this-is-all-unreal]

My Dear Friend

Part 5

Part 4

Part 3

Part 2

Part 1

Warning: mention of death, and injury.

        —Bruce, Tim and Dick had split up in the night. Bruce decided to see what he could find out about Margaret's first adopted family. He changed out of his batsuit and changed into his business suit. He walked up to the house of Loyd and Kelly Jefferson. It was the perfect example of the middle class dream. Nice white picket fence and all. It was one house of many similar looking ones in a suburb a few miles outside of Gotham city limits. Bruce walked up and knocked. A woman in her 50s answered. She was the picture perfect house maker, white apron and all. 

             "Hello ma'am I'm sorry to disturb you so late but I was looking into adopting a girl named Margaret Arthur and I  found your name on an old adoption form. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?" As soon as the woman heard Margaret's name her eyes hardened. She told him she didn't care who he was; she didn't want to hear anything he had to say about her and slammed the door. Bruce was walking off the steps when a man opened the door. He was bald and looked like any man you'd see working a 9 to 5 in an office building. He asked if he heard him right. If he was asking about little Margie. The man let Bruce in and told him how happy he was to hear someone was wanting to take Margaret in, especially by the Wayne family. The name had meaning even outside Gotham. 

          The two men laugh and enjoy a talk about their children. Mrs. Jefferson returned with drinks and listened to the two chat. It was killing Bruce. He finally asked why they gave her up after 10 years. They both stiffened when they were forced to remember. 

            "If you are really interested in adopting her don't let us ruin that." Mrs. Jefferson said wanting to wash her hands of it all. 

           "Kelly honey" Mr. Jefferson said in a sigh. Bruce pressed the matter and it was Mrs.  Jefferson who broke first.

           "Do you like the Omen Mr. Wayne? Because that's what she is." She snapped. A small argument broke out between the married couple. they bickered about how serious some event Bruce wasn't aware of was. 

         "Please tell me all you can." Bruce asked, sounding almost desperate. 

          "Well you know about the poor thing's mother. She was a few screws short of a set God rest her soul. I'll never understand how she was legally able to keep a child. Or how she got to husband but according to the case worker she was in and out of state run facilities her whole life. Schizophrenia maybe?" The man asked, looking at his wife who shrugged her shoulders. 

           "I think she set the fire that burned the house down but no one really knows what started it." She interjected. Bruce nodded 

        "I understand what got her to you two but what made you give her up?" The couple looked at each other. Then the wife spoke. 

         The neighbor next door had some kind of accident and Margaret found him right after it happened. The cops think he was cleaning his gun when it misfired. Margaret was home alone. She heard the shot and went over there to check on him. She saw him lifeless in his chair." she stopped speaking as she looked up at him. Her expression was unreadable, maybe it was pity or possibly guilt. 

         "After that she didn't  act like our little girl. She lashed out. We had a little dachshund at the time and Margaret tried, well she tried-" the man was interrupted by his wife.

         "The little bitch put him in the oven! We are lucky I work from home. I got him out before it got too hot. She kept screaming that her stupid imaginary friend who did it. That he wanted to make a hot dog. Seeing that body messed her up. She just wasn't right. She never slept. Her grades were plummeting and forget about her helping around the house. I didn't feel safe! She would stare at me with this blank look."

           "Excuse me, I need to get a stiffer drink." Mr. Jefferson said as he got up and walked to the kitchen. It was obvious he was crying. Mrs Jefferson looked at Bruce and leaned forward. She asked if she could tell him something that sounded crazy. And she asked that he not judge her. Bruce agreed and she continued 

           "After we gave Margaret back I gave birth to a healthy baby boy. I didn't know I was even pregnant till Margaret told me. She also knew the baby wasn't my husband's. I don't know how she knew." She paused to study his face. Bruce encouraged her to keep going. "The man I had an affair with was the neighbor. My husband had no idea. Margaret had no way of knowing we were very careful but somehow she knew. I asked her how and she lied like she always did and said Felix told her. She threatened to tell Loyd about the affair if I didn't tell him. I lost my temper and hit her. That's when her voice changed. I don't know what it was but it wasn't Margaret. I woke up in a hospital bed Mr. Wayne. She's a danger. I know I wasn't in the right but did I deserve this?" She took off her glasses and pulled out a glass eye. "She bashed my head in. I don't remember her doing it but It had to be her. It took 7 surgeries to save my other eye and put my skull back together. I have more metal in me than some cars nowadays." She quickly popped her eye back in as her husband returned. Bruce thanked them for their time and returned to his patrol. Telling no one about what he learned. He knew that would be a conversation for him and Margaret. 

             When Bruce met back up with Dick and Tim he learned there was a riot at Arkham earlier in the night and that some of the patients broke into the director's office and he didn't survive the encounter. The patients don't remember what happened or what they did to the director. Bruce was allowed to look at the CCTV. All the patients were calm, some were even under sedation until 9pm when they all left their rooms. At the same time the fire alarm was set off opening up all the rooms. No fire was ever found. In the confusion the patients slipped into the offices. It was an odd situation to say the least. Bruce decided to call it a night.—

           

       I felt arms under me. Carrying me somewhere I was scared to open my eyes. What if it was that hag from the TV again. I smelt the familiar smell of Bruce's cologne and I opened my eyes to see the underside of his chin. I relaxed a little and moved, letting him know I was awake.

         "Sorry I didn't mean to wake you up. I was trying to move you back to your room." He said as he looked down at me. I realized we were almost to the room I had the nightmare (or whatever that was) in. I tried to sit up in his arms and he adjusted his arms to make it harder. 

           "No, I don't want to go back there. There was something under the bed." 

           "I know Jason already told me about the nightmare. It's alright they happen to all of us."

            "No you don't understand Bruce it was real. She was in the TV. She had this horrible smile!" I say wiggling more as I try to get loose from his hold.

           "Margaret just calm down you don't have to if you're that scared." He said effortlessly keeping his grip no matter how much I tried to get free. I stop moving as he stops in the hall. 

          "What if I sit in there?" He says looking down at me. I think for a second. If anyone would be able to stop that thing it would be Batman I guess and if I am dreaming then he will be able to see there is nothing and tell me definitively. I nod to him.

          "I guess that's okay. Didn't bring a Batarang, did you?" 

           "No but I think I'll be able to manage." He says with a chuckle. He walks into my room and sets me down on the bed. I crawl to the center of the bed. 

         "Can you look under there?" I ask as I pull the blanket over me. He smiles and crouches down. He looks for a second then stands up and flips on the bathroom light and looks inside there. He turns back to me and shakes his head. 

          "Not a thing." He says as he sits down in the big plush chair next to the TV. I nod and get settled in. He pulled out his phone and looked down at it and scrolled slowly as he read something. It took a while but soon I fell asleep. 

          "Why is he here?" I almost leaped from the bed when I heard him. I had never been so excited to hear his voice. It was light out now and Bruce was fast asleep in the chair. "No I'm serious, why is he sleeping in a chair?" He asked again 

          "I'm so happy to hear you, Felix. I was so scared." I whisper as I hear him laugh. 

        "Yeah well I was a little busy."

         "Doing what?"

        "Don't worry about it but you're welcome." I wasn't sure what he meant but I wasn't going to question him right now. "So you really missed me so much?"

        "Of course I did. There was this lady on the TV. She was taunting me and then she attacked me. Well I think she did." 

         "Who are you talking to?" A very sleepy sounding Bruce asked. As he sat up in the chair. 

         "Felix he's back!" I say with a smile. 

         "Oh good." He says as he stands up and stretches. "I'm going to go shower. I'll see you at breakfast. Are you okay to be alone?" He asked as he stopped at the foot of the bed. 

         "I am now that Felix is back." 

          "Well good welcome back Felix." He says as he scratches his side and yarns. He walks out with a wave. I jump out of bed to show Felix the room. 

        "Look, we have our own bathroom and TV. I'm only a little scared of it." I say with a laugh. 

         "I thought we weren't staying?" He asked. I settled down and nodded. 

        "You're right. Let's have breakfast and say goodbye then we can go." 

       "No trust me Margaret we should go now. He talked to the Jeffersons. He's going to have questions."

         "But all that was you!" I shout back at him. I was so upset to have all this brought up again. I shook my head trying to get the image of the body out of my head. And Mrs. Jefferson. Whatever she had to say wasn't going to be nice. 

         "They will think it was you just like the Jeffersons did. They raised you for 10 years and didn't believe you. You have a snowball's chance in hell of this family believing you. We got to go." I hated it but he was right. I started my way downstairs. It was much easier with Felix directing me. I got to the front door and pulled on the handle. It didn't open and the keypad beeped at me. 

         "Felix help. What's the code?" I ask as I pull hard on the door. I see the numbers lighting up like he was pressing them. 

          "Hold on I'm trying." He said. He had tried to guess. Soon it makes an angry beeping sound and a lid closes over the keypad and a little circle opened up. I think it was a retina scanner like from a spy movie. I heard heavier footsteps coming from down the stairs. I turn around and see Jason walking over. My mind raced with excuses but also questions. I was terrified of what he could possibly want. 

           "Do you really want to go outside? No shoes or coat?" He asked. He wasn't smiling or even looking at me like I was crazy, he was just staring. I look down at my bare feet then back to him before nodding yes. He leaned forward and scanned his eye. The keypad opened back up and he typed in the code. The door unlatched and I opened it. I started to step outside. The sidewalk had been shoveled and the driveway was plowed. The bitter cold snapped at my skin as I started to run across the driveway. I came to a large hill covered in fluffy white snow. I got down on my butt and slid down. I had never been so cold in my life. I gained speed as I slid. I hit a bump and fell on my side making me start to roll down the hill on my side. I thought I was going to be sick. Eventually it stopped but I was covered in a thick coat of snow. I could feel Felix brushing it off me as I got up. 

         "Maybe we should go back. Your skin is getting really red." My jaw was chattering too much for me to answer but I wasn't going to stop. I felt like this was my only chance. I wasn't sure how far I ran but I started to see big buildings. I couldn't feel my feet or face. The fleece pajamas didn't keep me very warm once they were wet from snow. I found my way into the city. I got strange looks from everyone I passed. I felt someone tug on my arm. It was a lady not much younger than Bruce.

          "Oh sweetheart you shouldn't be out in the cold like this." She said as she gently pulled me inside a coffee shop with her. I was shaking and shivering. "Gino get me a tarp or something from the back to warm her up?" She said looking at the old man behind the counter. He quickly went to the back and came back with some kind of packing blanket. They wrapped it around me. 

          "I'll make her some hot coco or something." Gino said as he started heating up some milk. 

          "Can you talk? What happened to you?" The lady asked as she tried to dry me off. I warmed up pretty quickly and nod. "Where are your parents? Can I call someone?"

         "Tell her you're from Metropolis. Ask her for bus money."

          "I got lost. I need to get back to Metropolis. My mom's gonna be worried." I say through shivers. 

         "Let me call the cops they can-"

          "No please! No cops, my dad's in trouble with the law and if they drop me off at home they might try and take him away again." I say pulling it out of thin air. 

        "Nice touch."

        "Okay okay ummm" She looked around for a second trying to figure out what to do. 

          "Deb, get her on a bus." Gino said as he pointed to the bus stop outside the shop. She looked down at me unsure then nodded. 

         "You know your address?" She asked. I nodded quickly. I couldn't believe this was working. Gino hurries and hands her some money from the tip jar than the hot coco. I felt bad but I had to get out of Gotham at any cost. The bus was pulling up so she quickly helped me up and we walked out to the bus. She asked if Metropolis was one of the stops and to her surprise the bus driver said it was so she handed the bus driver the money and helped me on the bus and made sure the packing blanket was around me. She let me take a few sips of the coco before she had to take it. The bus had a strict no drinks rule. She got off the bus and stood at the curb. I sat next to a window and waved at the woman and man as we pulled away. I relaxed into the seat. I wasn't sure how long the ride would be but the bus was heated and I had a horrible thick blanket now.

          "Good job. So from Metropolis will go to Central City or even Star city maybe."

           "Then what?" I ask, looking at my own reflection in the window. 

          "Then we lay low, make some money somehow and from there we can do whatever we want No case workers, no shity foster homes, no Arkham, no Wayne family. We will be free." He says as I feel the seat press down next to me. Then I feel his head lay on my shoulder. I almost felt bad. Bruce seemed so nice but if Jason said was true it wasn't going to end well for me. He wasn't going to let me leave and that scared me most of all.

          People came and went, the bus made alot of stops but no one said anything or seemed to notice me. Eventually it was the last stop and we were at Metropolis. I got up and hugged the packing blanket around me tighter as I left the bus and felt the cold air again. I coughed and hid my face in the blanket. I walked for a little bit. It was much more windy here but at least the snow wasn't so high. I cut through an alley to get out of the wind. My cough was getting worse. 

           "Don't tell me you are getting sick."

           "Shut up, it's just the air drying my throat." There were two men at the end of the alley. I didn't pay them no mind. I just wanted to find a clean place to sit. Felix moved some cans to the side and pulled over a milk crate for me to sit on. I plopped down and leaned against the wall, closing my eyes for a second. I hear feet approaching so I open them and see the men much closer now. 

           "What's a kid in such nice PJ's doing out here?" One man asked. I didn't answer. 

            "Hey, my friend asked you a question." The other said. 

              "I guess you don't need this then." One said as he pulled at the blanket. I just let it go but Felix didn't. Unfortunately for the man Felix pulled so hard back the man fell forward and almost hit his face against the wall. I wasn't sure if they were on something or just missed the fact it wasn't me who pulled the blanket. The other started to laugh at his friend. I stood up and pulled the blanket with me so Felix wouldn't get aggressive and try to pull the blanket from them again.

        "No one would miss them"

         "No" I say flatly. 

        "No, what?" One of them asked. I backed away as one took a few steps closer. 

          "I think my buddy deserves that after what you did." The guy was completely fine. He just stumbled. I looked up at him hoping Felix wouldn't have to do something. My back hit something hard. I figured it was the wall so I stopped moving. The men looked above me. They looked horrified. I thought it was Felix so I didn't say anything.

            "Is there a problem here?" A deep voice asked from above me. I turned around and almost screamed in surprise. It was Superman himself.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Trial and Error: Part Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

The Cassitys are in the dining room with food all around them. As soon as you see Sam, you grin at his attire since he is dressed nicely for this fake job.

"Look how handsome you are in your uniform."

Sam's ears turn red at the compliment, but he doesn't say anything about it. You two grab the alcohol bottles and head back into the room. Margot is pushing her food around sadly while everyone else is eating and drinking. Sam walks over to Cindy and pours her some more, but she isn't happy with the amount he gives her.

"Really? Keep it coming, Ken doll."

Ellie walks in and takes the plates away, ignoring Noah's stares.

"Al, I'm so sorry about Carl. I mean, he was the love of your life," Margot says.

"Please, she can do better," Noah scoffs.

"Maybe Alice should marry a child--take after her father," Cindy bites back.

"Ivanka's not a child."

"Right. She's a prostitute who looks like a child."

"Are you done? Alice is in mourning," Margot says.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Margie. I didn't see you there. You're too far up on your high horse. You are right, we should all take a minute and say a few words about Carl. You first. Was he a good lay?" Cindy smirks at Margot.

"What?" Alice says.

You look at Sam and Ellie who tries their hardest to stay out of it.

"Oh, you didn't know? Yeah, daddy caught them going at it in the barn."

"Al, it was before you two got together. I mean, Carl loved you," Margot says to Alice who couldn't seem to care less.

"Yeah, that was back when Margie was fat and Cin was sober, a long time ago," Noah smirks.

"Get cancer and die, old man," Cindy says bitterly.

"You first, sweetie," Noah says sarcastically.

You quickly leave the dining room to join Ellie and Sam in the kitchen, but you can still hear them bickering in the next room over. You set the almost empty alcohol bottle on the counter and take a deep breath. Suddenly, you don't feel too well to the point where you might throw up.

"Are they always like this?" Sam asks Ellie.

"More or less."

"How can you work here?"

"I love the property, I love the animals, and I tune out the people."

Ellie leaves, and you grab another bottle to serve when you get one of the worst headaches you've gotten. Black spots fill your vision, and you get a bit lightheaded. The bottle in your hand slips and falls to the counter, but it doesn't break. Sam rushes over to you and picks up the bottle before attending to your needs.

"Are you okay? Is it the babies?"

"It's my head. It hurts, Sam," you whimper.

You look up and see Amara standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room.

"You really need to tell Dean this, Y/N."

"Yeah, I will after this. God, it hurts."

Sam holds you against him and rubs your head to help alleviate the pain. After a few minutes, it has calmed down enough for you to continue your work. It still hurts, but not as bad as before. You pull away from Sam with a nod and grab the same bottle before heading into the living room.

"Well, I can't remember the last time we all sat down and had a meal together," Alice states.

You walk around the table, pouring the alcohol into everyone's glasses.

"It was back at the old, crappy house, when daddy invited that traveling salesman to dinner. He was so charming."

"Yeah, and English."

"What was his name? Kenny?"

"No, I think it was Crowley," Cindy says.

You and Sam look at each other with wide eyes. Crowley was here ten years ago, and if all of them remember him, he could have made a deal with every single person here. Without a word, you and Sam leave the living room to join Dean in the back as he continues to cook the steaks.

"You'll never guess what they just said in there."

Sam tells him what happened, and it looks like Dean isn't all that surprised.

"Crowley?"

"That's what they said. Apparently, he swung through town ten years ago, to this day."

"Do you think tea and crumpets made these deals and now he's collecting?"

"Or he just sent his dog and told it to go fetch," you scoff. "He's the King of Hell. Grabbing a few souls is below his pay grade."

"Any idea who signed the dotted line?"

"I have no clue. It's brutal in there."

Dean's phone rings and he answers it seeing it's Kevin.

"Hey, Kev, what's up?"

"Hey, Dean, good news, I think... kind of. I found something on the tablet about Hellhounds. Does this mean anything to you? 'The dire creatures may be seen only by the damned or through an object scorched with holy fire'?"

"Are you talking about holy oil?" you ask.

"It's got to be. We could use a window."

"Or glasses," you shrug.

"I think we've still got some Jesus juice left in the trunk. Alright, I'll take care of the X-ray specs. You stay here. Do not let those people out of your sight."

"Right. Hey, Kevin, you did great. Get some sleep."

Dean hangs up on Kevin and parts ways with his brother. Sam gives you a look to go after him, so you quickly jog to catch up to him. He's going to need you if he wants to get inside the room. Dean waits for you to join his side, and you use your magic to break the spell so he can get inside the room. Joanna is still sleeping like a log, but you're quiet so you don't wake her.

"Look, I have something to tell you, and you're not going to like it."

"What?" he sighs.

"I'm still seeing Amara, but it's different this time. She's giving me these really bad headaches to the point where I get really dizzy." Dean already has a lot of his plate, and now he has Amara to deal with. "I think it's okay, though."

"It's not okay, Y/N. It never was okay. You shouldn't be seeing her, and I've been trying to tell you that from the second you saw her."

"What do you want me to do, Dean? Castiel is no help. It's not like I can march into Heaven and figure out why this is happening. I would love nothing more than to get rid of her, but I don't know how. Please, if you have an idea, I'm all ears."

"What we're going to do is work this job and then after, we are going to figure out how to get rid of her. The bunker must have some books on her."

Dean searches for three glasses, and when he has them, he leaves the room to head to his car. You look at Joanna once more before following him, spelling the room once both of you are out. He grabs the holy oil from the trunk and gets to work. He pours some of the oil onto the ground and lights it. With each pair of glasses, he passes them over the fire so that they are spelled to see what was previously unseen.

You take your pair and put them on, gasping at how different the world looks. It's as if someone put a thin piece of blue cellophane paper over the lens. It's definitely weird, but you need this in order to see the Hellhound. You're not sure where to start looking, but it looks like the trouble is coming to you.

Sam and Noah come running out of the woods, one with panic and the other with sadness in his eyes. You and Dean rush over to Sam who ushers everyone inside the house. Noah, Margot, and Sam went out with hunting guns because Noah wanted to kill whatever was out there. The Hellhound got to Margot, and Sam and Noah barely got away.

Now everyone is in a panic because of the thing they can't see or understand.

"What was that thing?" Noah pants.

"It was a Hellhound. See, when you sell your soul to a demon, they're the ones that come and rip it out of you."

"Demon?" Alice gasps.

"Crowley. We know he was here ten years ago, making dreams come true. Now, if you didn't sign, great. That freak out there won't touch you. If you did, I need to know, and I need to know now. So, hands up."

"The British guy was a demon, and now there's a Hellhound after us? Are you insane?" Alice panics.

"They're obviously insane."

"Don't play dumb."

"Yeah, I'm not playing. I didn't sell my damn soul."

"Someone here did, and the sooner someone fesses up, the sooner the rest of you can go." When no one speaks, Dean nods in understanding. "Seal them in."

"What?!"

"Listen, we know what we're doing. We are going to seal the windows and doors so the Hellhound won't be able to come here... for a while, at least.

"How long are we stuck here?"

"Long enough for me to stab it in its throat."

"No, you can't do this," Noah tries to protest.

"Yes, I can," Dean cuts him off. "You want to know why? Because it's what we do, and buddy, we're the best. See, I gut old yeller out there, and maybe you walk away. If I don't, you're meat. So, sit down, shut up, and put these on."

Dean takes out a pair of handcuffs, making the older man raise his eyebrows. You don't have time for this, so you take the handcuffs from Dean and handcuff each person to the coffee table so that if they were to hallucinate, they won't hurt themselves or others.

"I don't... Who are you people?" Alice asks.

"We're here to help. When the Hellhound gets close, you might start seeing and hearing things. It's gonna feel like you took acid, and it's trying to kill you. The handcuffs are so you won't hurt yourselves or others," you explain. "When one of you starts showing these signs, then we will know who made the deal."

After Sam finishes spreading the goofer dust around, you three walk off to the side and discuss what the next steps are.

"So, what's our play?"

"You're staying here," Dean says, pointing to you and then moves his finger to Sam. "You're camping out here with her and figure out who sold their soul. I'm gonna go scout the grounds and see if I can't gank Fido before he makes his next move."

"No, you're not going alone. I can handle these people. You're bringing Sam."

"Wrong."

"Dean, I am here, they are on lockdown, and you need backup."

"No, I don't. I need you two to be safe okay? That's what I need."

"When are we ever safe?" you quietly yell.

"This is different."

"How?"

"Because of the three trials shit. We've been down roads like this before with Yellow-Eyes, Lucifer, Dick fucking Roman, and so many more. We both know where this ends--one of us dies... or worse."

"And you decide that it's going to be you?" you scoff angrily. "No, I will not accept that! You need to stop talking like you don't have a wife and children who love you and expect you to come home to them. You told me that I can't risk my life, and that I was your world. Well guess what, this road goes both ways. You're my world, Dean. You're the reason I get up every morning. If I lose you because of this... Don't make your kids grow up without a dad."

Dean knows you're right. He can't ask you to do things for him and not expect the same thing in return for you. When he married you, he agreed to take care of you. If he dies, then who will do it?

"Whoever gets to him first kills it. You're right, I can't back out of my family now. You need to stay inside, but Sam and I will go out."

"That is something I can agree on."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[dorbaswheely]

The Turtle Story

Dear Suzane,

I want to let you know that they was a turble trajedy at Mike's house this mornin . When I got over there, I found out that his little sister's turtles, Winky and Pete had both been found diseezed. She said that the older one, Pete, died from new mona cuse he had been coffin and sneezin a lot. And, the smaller one died suddenly when she stepped on it.

Hislittle sster, Margie, told me that the older one was named Pete cause his neck was skinny and reenkled just like her grandpa Pete. And, Winky was named that way cause he was always blinkin his eyes. Margie said they both was just like members of her family cause they had been with her almost 4 weeks. She said she had been teachin them tricks. She had been tryin' to teach them to roll over but they was shaped the wrong way.

When I got there she was sniffin and Mike had his arm around her. He said that he had promised her that we would give winky and Pete a proper barrel. I was glad that I had been with granddaddy to so many funerls. Otherwise I might not know how to do it.

Mike had already dug two holes in the backyard and had Margie's little chair near the holes so she could see good. Me and Mike talked about it for a while, then he went inside and got his mama's Bible from under the coffy table. We had put winky and Pete in two crayon boxes which we had to empty out. But, Margie said she wanted to leave the blue crayon in winky's box, and, she put the yellow one in pete's. She said it was their favorites.

Me and Mike stood up at the graves and said how sorry we was for Margie's believement and for the sudden loss of her favorite turtles. I told Margie that the Bible said that Jesus was in heaven and that he had appeared in heaven with Moses and Elijah. Mike said that now maybe he'll appear with winky and Pete. Margie said that she hopes so.

Anyway, I took the Bible and held it so Mike could put his hand on it. Then I said," Mike, do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, So God may help you?" Now, Mike can really be silly and he likes to laugh and carry on. But, this time he was real serus when he said," I do." Then Mike held the Bible for me to put my hand on it and he said" Charles, do you solemnly swear to tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so God may help you?"" I do."

then, I picked up Pete and handed him to Mike. We knew which was which cause Margie had wrote their names on the boxes. I prayed," oh, lord, we do give Pete the turtle back to you cuz there's not much margie can do with a dead turtle." Then I said," in the name of the father and in the name of the son..." And Mike said," and, into the hole he goes." Then, Mike put him real soft down in the hole.

then, I picked up winky and handed him to Mike and said," dear Lord, we do give winky the turtle back to you. And we know he is a little flatter than he was, but, we know you can fix him." Then, I said," in the name of the father, and in the name of the son..." Then, Mike said," and, into the whole he goes."

well, Suzanne, I wish you could have been there. Margie said it was a real nice service and she believes she could see winky and Pete in heaven right there with Jesus. Me and Mike is talking about going into the ministry.

your friend,

Charlie

[atlanticcanada]

'Unsung heroes': Mary Janet MacDonald shares stories, recipes of 12 women in new cookbook

A beloved Cape Breton baker is sharing the stories and recipes of 12 inspiring women in her new cookbook.

Known for her cinnamon rolls and cheery disposition, Mary Janet MacDonald became famous during the COVID-19 pandemic for her Facebook Live show, "Tunes and Wooden Spoons."

Since then, the Port Hood, N.S., resident has earned followers from around the world and has produced two cookbooks.

MacDonald's fame started following a request for family members to share her baking skills online during the pandemic.

"We have three children out west, and our daughter Margie was a teacher out there and she just said, one day on the phone back in March of 2020, 'Mom, we've got to do something. Why don't you just go on Facebook Live and show people how to make your cinnamon rolls, because we all love your cinnamon rolls,'"MacDonald recalls.

She says she never expected the show to become what it is today.

"So, it was just going to be a one-off. So, I did it and I didn't know how to even technically do that, but we managed," says MacDonald. "And we were on lockdown and we couldn't believe just the love that came from everybody from that first show."

MacDonald says, following that first appearance, her granddaughter helped her come up with a name for the show. It didn’t take long for “Tunes and Wooden Spoons” to take off.

"The force was there from the people who needed a pastime, I believe, and it just kind of happened every Sunday then, and here we are.”

Every Sunday, MacDonald invites viewers into her Cape Breton kitchen via Facebook Live to follow along as she makes her favourite recipes.

Along with viewers around the world, MacDonald's community has been supportive of her new venture.

"I love that I can talk about my community and Port Hood and Cape Breton, and use it as a platform to encourage people just to come and visit, you know? [It's] a beautiful island, and the cinnamon rolls, well, I make them all the time and the grandchildren just love them," she says.

MacDonald says her first cookbook, "Tunes and Wooden Spoons: Recipes from a Cape Breton Kitchen," mainly focused on recipes that were passed down to her over the years, as well as things that she loves to make.

Her second cookbook, "Tunes and Wooden Spoons: Love without Measure," focuses on 12 women and their recipes, as well as ideas from her friends and family.

"They supplied me with lots of recipes, plus more of my own, and I think as co-author, my daughter who started it all is a photographer in her pastime, and she took all of the pictures," says MacDonald. "I wanted a picture of every recipe and she complied, and I think it's a really pretty book to look at and I think people will enjoy the stories and the recipes."

As to how she narrowed it down to just 12 women, she says she tried to select different cultures to provide a variety of options.

"So, we have the Mi'kmaq, we have an Acadian woman, we have a Dutch woman who came here from Holland after World War II and her story, and just great bakers.”

MacDonald says the 12 women featured in her new cookbook are all in their 80s and 90s-- except for one, who was 106.

"I think it was so nice to feature women like that who were the backbone of their family and unsung heroes who had just kept their family going on the farms," she says.

MacDonald's cookbooks can be found online.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/EUB4cO6

[dungeoncrawlergf]

if i ever die i leave u guys in charge of my cat

[zaynesplushiekiller]

hcs!!! (☆▽☆)

includes; andrew kreiss, victor grantz, luca balsa, jack the ripper, smiley face, dream witch, the feaster, memory, axe boy, yimi (follower), margaretha zelle, mike morton, murro, soul weaver, emily dyers, emma woods, hell ember, disciple, sculptor, naiad, eli clark, the bloody queen, geisha, mad eyes, undead, tracy reznik, evil reptilian, violinist, wu chang, and vera nair

features; VAL, smileyjack, luchinini, and xiefan

not necessarily romantic, but sort of implied; naibnort, michimary, vioann, and galagrace

-

• andrew has nightmares. a lot. every night type beat. he can't stand them

• victor keeps his door unlocked for when andrew can't sleep because of his nightmares.

• wick doesnt mind.

• wick DOES mind when luca bursts open the door at 3am to promptly steal his lovers dog.

• it happens so much?!

• based on that one fic, jack knew joker pre-manor, they were totally a fling or two

• cant stand the fact that they tried to make jacks DID a toko fukawa thing

• so i say its more like a supernatural thing

• speaking of the supernatural...

• i think itd be funny if yidhra and hastur were the babysitters of the manor.

• memory, robbie, and yimi go to hastur when they want something, and the old diety can't handle these cute kids start begging for takoyaki :(

• speaking of.. one time in a blackjack match, robbie and memory got paired up and everyone else let them win, despite the fact that they were obviously losing.

• how could you make them lose?!

• moving on...

• hunter rooms are bigger than survivor rooms, but still too big for one person to stay in.

• so some hunters share rooms... more like a lovers deal but the baron doesn't need to know that (✿^‿^)

• joker and jack shared a room long before they realized they were in love...

• which left for a lot of really weird one night stands! thats for sure!

• i think after the events of hullabaloo, jokers feelings for margie diminished. not completely, but he really couldn't find himself pursuing her.

• she was avoiding him anyway

• could you blame her though? he kind of *is* wearing the ripped off face of her dead lover...

• for the other members

• mike was too consumed with finding who ended his career to care much for anything else.

• violetta went to the manor, and found herself making so many little collars for ann's cats

• and of course, Vio couldn't keep these things to herself! so she began making little trinkets for the cats owner to have.

• and that got them to talking, and one thing lead to another, and now they spend almost all of their time together.

• murro and victor hang out sometimes, because wick likes berry the boar.

• the boar didnt have a name btw how fucked up is that

• more on my animals, brooke rose and emma are best friends.

• sometimes brooke, emma, and leo all go out and Brooke helps emma and leoprune some of her plants.

• emma sees emily sort of as a mother figure.

• it all started when emily helped emma clean some of the lasting cuts after a long match with percy.

• fucker. i hate him.

• on some nights, the NERDS (tracy, luca, burke, and luchino) all get together and discuss scientific stuff idk i failed science.

• SPEAKING OF LUCHINO

• i love that guy, hes so cool

• he has a crush on that cute musician, the violinist i think he is?

• this is sort of canon, but norton has survivors guilt, and i think naib and him talk quite often, they both discuss their guilt and work towards dealing with it.

• when grace first arrived at the manor, she was very apprehensive, and didn't talk to anyone.

• she met her two close friends hastur and galatea in duos.

• hastur is nice to his fellow fish-folk, and galatea thinks grace is of divine beauty.

• galatea likes sculpting grace in her free time, and anyone else she thinks is beautiful.

• women, lol.

• mary, michiko, margaretha, and vera are some of them.

• michiko and mary are always together, i don't make the rules.

• michiko loves doing traditional makeup, and mary loves experimenting. but red lipstick is always a must!

• sometimes, they do each others makeups, and then girlboss 8 survivors in duos.

• sometimes, long after the black guard has fallen asleep, he'll choke.

• xie wakes up everytime this happens, and forces fan to wake up as well.

• the terror sets in nearly every night.

• ELI HAS SOME PUDGE ON HIM

• he eats good with his bird friend!!!!

[thefloorisbalaclava]

I need that promised Dinner Date for Mechanic!Frankie!!! <3

Of course!

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Two awkward cuties who haven’t been on a date in a long time and another kiss. A longer one this time.

[mechanic!frankie masterlist]

Frankie smiled down at his phone as he read the text “Dinner tonight. My place” for the fiftieth time that morning. He couldn’t believe it was actually happening. He thought that the kiss you two shared might have scared you away, but here you were inviting him to dinner.

“Hey boss,” one of his mechanics said as he walked into the office. Frankie fumbled his phone, making it fly up in the air before landing on his desk. “Am I interrupting something?” the man asked, amused.

“Uh...no. What’s up?” Frankie cleared his throat and stood up.

“Is she hot?” The worker grinned and leaned against the doorframe.

“Get out,” Frankie said calmly.

“Wait, is it that woman that brings her car in like three times a week? She’s fucking hot, man. Way to go.” He clapped Frankie on the back as he walked past him out the door.

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Frankie rolled his eyes and began cleaning his tools.

“It’s a compliment, boss.”

“Hot? No...she’s gorgeous, beautiful, stunning...so much more than hot.” He stared off into space dreamily as he spoke.

“Man, you got it bad or maybe you got it good,” the man joked.

“One more thing like that outta your mouth and I’m sending you home.” He put the wrench he was cleaning down roughly and glared at his worker. “Be respectful, please.”

“Yes, boss. Sorry, boss.” The man walked off and busied himself and Frankie went back to daydreaming about you. 

He found himself feeling bad for thinking so much about the small kiss you two shared. It wasn’t like anyone could read his mind, but he still felt a little guilty. He also felt guilty for wanting the day to go by as fast as possible so he could get to you faster.

He closed up shop and headed home to shower and dress in some of his nicer clothes. He knew you wouldn’t have a problem with anything he wore but he still wanted to look nice for you.

Should he tell you he was getting ready?

just got home. be there soon, he texted and left it at that. You didn’t need to know that he was showering and all that.

After his shower, he looked at himself in the mirror. The towel sat just below his tummy and sucked it in, imagining how he would look if he was a bit more svelte. He’d definitely fit into his clothes a little better. He wondered if you liked your men a little more toned than he was.

“You’re an idiot, Francisco,” he sighed before walking away from the mirror and getting dressed.

The button up shirt he chose was one of the nicest he had. It took him about ten minutes to decide how many buttons he should leave undone. He didn’t want to look like he was trying to hard although he really was. His hair was almost completely dry by the time he finished dressing completely. He looked in the mirror again and tried styling it in different ways. He was so used to wearing a hat that his hair never seemed to look right without it. And his stubborn, errant curls went wherever they wanted anyway.

“Screw it,” he said quietly, standing up straight and giving himself a once over. He turned to the side and looked at his butt. “Hmm...” Then shook his head. “What the hell am I doing?” Before he did anything else stupid, he grabbed his jacket and walked out the door.

Right after he knocked on your door, he regretted not asking if he should bring anything. You opened the door and greeted him with a bright smile.

“You made it,” you said happily.

“I did. What...did you think I’d stand you up?” he asked as he walked inside.

“No, but, uh...” You looked him up and down and he felt his face getting hot. “I’m surprised some other woman didn’t snatch you up before you got here.”

“Oh,” he chuckled sheepishly, looking down at the floor.

“What I mean to say is that you look very nice. I mean, you always do but...you look nice.”

He shrugged. “Thanks.”

“Any time. Uh...you can come into the kitchen if you like.” 

He hung up his jacket and followed you in, watching you move to and fro. “Anything I can help with?” he asked.

“Nope, you’re my guest.”

“Okay. Smells good,” he commented.

“Thanks. It’s not quite as delicious as what you made me for dinner, but I hope you’ll like it.” You placed a plate on the table. “Please sit.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it.”

“I put wine out but if you want something different just let me know.” You made yourself a plate and sat across from him.

“Wine is...fine,” he said, shaking his head. “Sorry.” He picked up his fork and took a bite before nodding happily. “I knew it.”

“What?”

“It’s delicious.”

You clapped your hands together. “Good!”

You two talked about everything. It was easygoing and fun and something Frankie had avoided for so long. He knew he had just had dinner with you the other night but there was something even more pleasant this time around.

He smiled at the way you got a little more talkative and expressive when you got wine drunk. You laughed at his jokes, you even finished some of his sentences. Before he knew it, you were sitting in the chair next to his and had it turned so you could face him.

“Want some more wine?” you asked after finishing another glass of your own.

“No, I still have to get home, you know,” he joked. You both laughed then just looked at each other.

“So...” You put your glass down and held out your hands. “Lemme see your hands.”

“Hm okay.” He put his hands in yours and you turned them over, surveying them, feeling them. “Rough, I know.”

“They’re lovely hands,” you told him.

“What are you gonna do to ‘em? You gonna read my palms or something?”

“No, I just wanted to...” You looked at him and forgot what you were going to say. “Um...hold...them...”

“That’s fine with me...” He said your name quietly then you said his and then you were kissing. You both sighed into it like you both had breathed the very air you need into each other’s lungs. You let go of his hands so you could lock yours around the back of his neck, fingers tucked into his curls. Your tongue touched his first and he made a small sound before doing the same. Every time one of you pulled away it just started all over again. Neither of you could get enough.

The softness of your lips, the softness of his. Urgent yet not greedy or forceful. Sweet yet passionate. He’d never forget that you tasted of wine and that you smiled when you kissed. You didn’t have to know that he had opened his eyes a few times just to look at you.

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both breathless.

“Um...wow,” he said quietly.

“Was that okay?” you asked.

“Okay? That was more than okay.” He touched your face softly and you smiled at him.

You both lingered at the door--him outside, you inside. You couldn’t bring yourself to say goodnight so you just kissed him again.

“I had a wonderful night,” he said, “Thank you.”

“Me too. I hope we can do it again sometime.” You ran your fingers over his knuckles then he turned your hand over so he could kiss the back of it.

“We can. I’d love nothing more,” he admitted. He leaned in for one more kiss which you gladly gave to him. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Francisco.” You closed the door and smiled dreamily to yourself before twirling around the living room. 

Frankie could see you through the window and he chuckled before driving off. He touched his lips. Everything he had kept himself from all those years he had found again on your lips.

frankie taglist: @fakenoods @oldstuffnewstuff @the-bird-suit @lestrange2703 @findhimfives @windfallss @rach7 @surfsup666 @theghostwiththemost-babe @marshmallow--3 @mrschiltoncat @aplaceofpeace @josepedropascal @jeeperky @allthingsnarcos @laymegentlytorest @stanfordscrush @fangirlingss @nathan-bateman @darthdumbasss @helga1031 @master-obi-wan-kenboneme @heythere80sbaby @deserttastesbitter @dindjstarin @mandodjarinn @frankie-stein18 @funkylittlebisexuall @16boyfriends-and-me @marvelousmermaid @slugbuggie @ladyblogger-margie @queenbbarnes @dodgerandevans @terrormonster55 @queridopascal @hells-bells-x @allmahfeels @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @blackberries45 @darnitdraco @nemo-my-name-forevermore @dindjarinneedsahug @littlefairygirlx

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[nevalizona]

Okokok so this one needs a little more of an introduction than just my normal sentence or whatever but this is roughly 5 pages of a fic I wrote, to explore Jesús and Ivy Nicole more. They are the main focus but there is a 'Margie' mentioned but she is not important. Maybe one day I'll make a post about her but probably not.

Pardon any errors.

Ivy Nicole sat at a small diner, the place was always an easy breakfast stop. She doesn’t know how many times she’s eaten here since she moved to New Bordeaux. She isn’t very happy that a certain someone was sitting across from her, a woman named Margie. She’s an older woman that knows the man Ivy Nicole has been hooking up with. Apparently they’re best friends or something, but none of that matters to Ivy Nicole since she knows that they have to be more than friends. Friends don’t stick their dicks in their other friends, as far as Ivy is concerned. She’s doing this as a favor to him, she wouldn’t be doing this on her own volition. He means a lot to her, so here she is.

“You got good taste, Ivy Nicole. This place is pretty good. I didn’t take you for the ‘diner breakfast’ type. You look like you’d go to an, oh I don’t know, full on restaurant or something.” Margie said as she took a sip of her coffee, she drank it with a lot of cream, barely any sugar.

“What do you know about good taste?” Ivy snorted, looking over the menu, still trying to decide what she wanted.

“You know, Ivy Nicole, you don’t gotta be like that. You’ve been so… cold towards me and I don’t get it. I’ve been nothing but nice to you. The way Robert talks about you,’ she shook her head, ‘just… guess he’s got those rose tinted glasses on or whatever ‘cause you’re not very nice.” She played with her mug as she spoke.

Ivy Nicole felt a tinge of guilt but responded with a snort.

“Whatever you old hag. You’re just mad that Robert likes me better. But, let’s be real for a second, he isn’t a prize. He’s a great guy, I like him a lot, but he certainly isn’t worth this.” Ivy Nicole pointed to herself and then to Margie.

“This?”

“Yeah, you being jealous. No need for it.” Ivy Nicole waved Margie off dismissively as she took a drink of her own coffee. Cream and lots of sugar.

Margie raised her eyebrows and shook her head as she took another drink.

“That confidence… It's a good thing but it ain’t pretty. Other women see through that shit in a second, darling.” Margie reached out and set her hand on top of Ivy Nicole’s.

Ivy tugged her hand away from Margie’s.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“You aren’t foolin’ any ladies the way you do with the men. I know deep down Ivy Nicole, you’re a scared little kitten. You should try to be nice to other women instead of treating them like competition. Like you said, Robert isn’t a prize. I don’t like him like that, he’s, he’s my best friend.” She said softly looking into her coffee.

Ivy Nicole rolled her eyes.

She looked over at the door that jingled, immediately her stomach dropped. She knows that skinny lanky man anywhere, she’s had to see him way too much lately. She looked away quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice her.

He walked up to the lady that seats people, leaning on her little podium, probably flirting with her, it’s what he always does. Ivy Nicole couldn’t help but wish she could turn invisible. She sank down in the booth a little. The hostess smiled at him and grabbed a menu, walking him over to a table. Ivy Nicole couldn’t take her eyes off him, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He looked her way for a second, and she turned to look somewhere else quickly. He looked back over to where she sat, a small smile slipping onto his face.

“--Really though Ivy Nicole, you seem like a great woman. I really do think we’d get along.” Ivy Nicole pulled her attention back to Margie who seemed to be going on about something.

“Yeah, I hear you. I hear you.” Ivy Nicole, grumbled, fighting the urge to look towards where he sat.

Margie sucked on her teeth and shook her head.

“God, you two are something else. You guys act like an old married couple. He’s seeping into you, and you’re seeping into him. Soon you guys are gonna be one amalgamation.” Margie shook her head as she spoke.

“What? Are you still talking over there? Why don’t you just pick what you want so we can fuckin’ order already.” Ivy groaned.

“Miss Ivy Nicole, I don’t know if you remember, but you’re the one holding us back baby. I know what I want, and I have since we came in. You were the one that couldn’t decide if you wanted something sweet or savory.”

“I th-”

“Ooo, go for something sweet. Breakfast should always be a little sweet.” Jesús said as he walked up, running his hand over his hair, toothpick in his mouth like always.

“What are you doing here?” Ivy Nicole asked, squinting her eyes at him.

“Can’t a man want some breakfast. Hey mama, can you scoot over a little? I need to talk to my friend.” He said, gesturing for Margie to move over.

“And you are?” She asked, looking annoyed.

“Me? Shit, sorry. Jesús King.” He held his hand out.

“Margie, nice to meet you.” She said as she placed her hand in his.

“It certainly is…” He said, a smile slipping onto his face, eyes obviously dropping down to her cleavage.

“What do you want?” Ivy Nicole asked, feeling annoyed. He looked over at Ivy, dropping Maggie’s hand and sliding into the booth.

“Why you always gotta be so cold, Ivy Nicole. Maybe I just wanted to talk to you. You know mama, a little bit of warmth will take you far in life.” The toothpick in his mouth bobbed as he talked, his posture terrible, practically hanging over the table.

“Spit it out.”

“Okay, okay, sheesh.’ He leaned back so he was resting against the booth.’ I need you to talk to Lincoln for me. I need to sit down with him.” He looked out the window as he spoke.

“And you need me to do that shit for you?”

“Ivy Nicole, baby, he actually likes you. Can’t you do that for me?” He moved so he leaned forward again, his palms pressed against the table.

“When did I become the middleman ‘tween you two?” 

Jesús looked at Margie for a second.

“Hey mama, can you do me a favor and go to my table and order me a coffee. When she brings it to you, pour sugar in for about five mississippis. I gotta talk to Ivy Nicole, okay?” He asked, getting out of the booth so she could slide out.

She rolled her eyes but went.

“Why you hanging out with that old bag anyways? I mean she’s hot and all, a great set of tits on her, but she don’t really seem like your type.” He said as he slid into the booth.

“She’s Robert’s friend and he wants us to get along better.” She grimaced.

“Robert? That your boyfriend?”

She smiled at him but shook her head ‘no’.

“He’s just a guy I’ve been hooking up with. You know I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah but I mean things change. You’re a beautiful girl, Ivy Nicole, I’m sure you got people throwing themselves at you constantly.” He smiled and it seemed almost sheepish.

“You don’t even know the half of it. What did you want to talk to me about?” She looked less happy than she had before. Jesús immediately felt like he did something wrong.

“Hey did I upset you or somethin’? I didn’t mean it, whatever I did.” He said softly, pulling his toothpick out of his mouth.

“No, you didn’t do anything. What do you want?”

He looked at her for a few seconds before continuing. He popped the toothpick back in his mouth and shrugged.

“You know, that Lincoln is a hardass. He’s a piece of shit. I work hard, bust my ass trying to get him what I gotta kick up to him, which by the way, I always include a little extra, and I ask for just a little more territory and he fuckin’ goes nuts. Has Vito’s men talkin’ to me ‘bout ‘steppin’ outta line’ like what the fuck?” Jesús is very animated when he talks, it’s amusing to watch.

“And what am I supposed to do about that?”

“Mama, think about it. I ain’t askin’ you to, ya know, convince him to let me have a little more territory, I just need you to get us a sit down. You think you could do that, baby girl?” He asked, eyes big and bright, like a puppy.

Ivy Nicole smiled and shook her head.

“How can I say no to you, Jesús? I’ll talk to Lincoln okay? But you gotta promise me you’ll be on your best behavior. I’m putting my neck on the line for you. Lincoln likes me, we have history, but I’m not involved in that world, so stop trying to bring me into it.” Ivy Nicole said, pointing at him.

He raised his hands as if to surrender.

“Look mama, I trust you. I respect you not bein’ a part of this life. I do. But I need you on my side of the ring. I got to have someone pulling for me. If I ain’t got you, I got no one. That’s the thing about this life, baby, you always gotta have someone.”

“You had no one before me.”

“And look how that turned out, baby! You’re real special to Lincoln, I know that. I ain’t tryin’ to get you two all messed up. I’m not. I respect y’alls history. I do. But you and me, mama, we’re the new team. You ain’t doin’ anything, just puttin’ in good word for me.” He reached over and grabbed Ivy Nicole’s hand in his.

“You’re too much, Jesús. Too much.” She smiled at him, letting him hold her hands. She can feel all his rings and even a touch of his heartbeat. For some reason she has a soft spot for this guy, she doesn’t know why.

“You can handle me, mama. I know it.” He wiggled his eyebrows and pressed a kiss against her soft hands, before setting them gently back down on the table.

“Guess I better go tell the old woman she can come back. Thank you for your time, Miss Harris, I know it’s precious.” He said with a wink as he got out of the booth.

“Be safe out there, Jesús.”

“I always am, mama. Don’t you worry.” He said as he grabbed the cigarette from behind his ear, pulling out a lighter from his pocket and lighting it as he walked back to his table.

Ivy Nicole tried to calm down her beating heart.

“Who was that guy?” Margie asked, as she sat back at the booth.

“A coworker of a friend. No biggy. He thinks you’re hot.” Ivy teased.

“Oh yeah? He’s a little too young for me.” Margie waved him off dismissively.

“Plus, he makes my gut feel terrible.”

-

Ivy Nicole stood outside of Sammy’s bar smoking a cigarette, she’s waiting for Lincoln to show up. It’s a nice warm day outside, muggy as usual. She’s shy for some reason, nervous about what Lincoln’s gonna say. He doesn’t like her sticking up for Jesús so much. In fact he’s downright said to stop, ‘cause he ain’t someone she should be messing around with. Ivy Nicole never listens, so of course, she’s sticking up for him again. Lincoln’s black Drifter pulled up next to Ivy Nicole.

“Lookin’ for a ride, beautiful?” He asked, his world class smile slipping onto his face with ease.

She took a drag and blew some smoke in the opposite direction as she shook her head ‘no’. She already felt worse about this whole thing. He seems like he’s in a good mood.

“Alright then, let me park and we can talk, alright?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be here.” She smiled at him, feeling her cheeks go red as he pulled around the corner and into the garage. She still has such a big dumb crush on him, even though she knows she and him won’t work out. They've been there, done that, but still her heart just bangs when she looks at him.

“How can I help you, Miss Ivy Nicole?” Lincoln said as he grabbed her cigarette and took a drag.

“I had breakfast with Margie today-”

“That’s Marshall’s old prostitute friend right?” He asked, blowing some smoke, as he spoke.

“Uh huh. He wants us to get along better, so we went out. Well, while we were out Jesús showed up and --”

“Don’t. He wants to talk to me, he can do it himself. He’s no good, Ivy Nicole.” Lincoln passed Ivy back her cigarette.

“I know, but he says you aren’t listening to him. He just wants to have a sit down, apparently.” Ivy Nicole shrugged, as she took another drag.

“I don’t want you getting tangled up in this shit, Ivy. This life ain’t for you and you know it.”

“I’m not--”

“He’s gonna pull you into it. Stop talking to him. He’s a piece of shit.” Lincoln looked right at Ivy Nicole as he said that. She nodded her head slowly, she knew he had a point. She should listen to him, she cares about Lincoln far more than some sleazeball but for some reason, she still wanted to help Jesús out.

“Will you talk to him, please Lincoln, for me?”

He shook his head.

“I don’t know why you’re pulling for this guy so hard, but I’ll do it, cause you asked.” Lincoln looked down at her, gentle as always.

Ivy Nicole is not a smart woman. In fact, she lets her emotions control almost every action she does. Sometimes though, she uses her head. Doesn’t make stupid decisions. She wants to get up on her tippy toes and kiss Lincoln, pressing him against the building and kiss him like her life depended on it.  But that wouldn’t be smart. It’s dumb. She and him need to work on themselves before they try being together again. Kissing will just complicate things, especially since kissing will lead to sex. As much as she wants Lincoln to jump in her bones, she has got to chill. Save these feelings for another day. Instead she just pulls him into a hug, and he cautiously hugs her back.

[cyarikashakira]

Chimichangas

A/N: This is my first time writing a fanfic. I am super nervous but I have an overabundance of love for Joaquin Torres so I had to put it somewhere. I'm doing @caplanbuckybarnes's summer writing challenge.

Summary: Falling in love at the supermarket wasn’t on your to-do list today, yet here you were snatching looks at a cute stranger.

Warnings: (I don't know if these count as warnings) GN!Reader, No Y/N, Joaquin Torres is an absolute cutie pie!

‘They were gone. All of them.’ I thought as I rummaged through the wrongfully stocked freezer. A sniffle escaped, then two, which was followed by a full on wail.

“Who the hell put the Steak and Cheese chimichangas where the Chicken and Cheese chimichangas goes!?”

I slammed the freezer door and rested my head on it and placed my hand on the cold glass.

Casual shoppers and workers tiptoed around me while I grumbled to myself in annoyance. I just wanted my comfort food.

A full on breakdown in the middle of a grocery store and I gave no fucks. A tap on my shoulder and I whirled around ready to light up the poor soul who decided to bother me.

“What do you want?” I wiped the tears from my face with a growl. Giant innocent eyes looked at me in shock as I grimaced at him.

“Hi - um, can I help you?” He bravely pointed at his name tag which said ‘Joaquin’ with the Walmart name above

“Sure~ can you just point me towards the person who decided to sleep on the job and stock the wrong chimichangas in the wrong spot? I just wanna have a little chat.” I said with a fake smile on my face.

“Th-that would be me.” He gulped and pointed over his shoulder towards the stocking material behind him.

You peeked around him and just glared.

“So it was you. You have been declared as my arch nemesis. Where are the chicken and cheese chimichangas?”

“They are out of stock. But we can call you when they are back in stock.”

The air suddenly became tense.

“...Believe it or not, they already have my number because I buy them so often. It is Tuesday and it’s 8:30. They are always stocked at 8pm on Tuesday.” I looked down at my watch to double check the time. I crossed my arms ready to take my frustrations out on the worker.

“We are going to have to call some people.” He said plainly.

“What?” My head tilted to the side in confusion.

“For this chimichanga shortage. We need to call some people.” His smile got bigger as he continued talking.

“Chimi..changa shortage? If they are going to fix my day then you better call them.”

“I’m kidding..”

“Oh.” I let out a nervous laugh and made a face.

He ran a hand through his fluffy black curls and huffed. I took a look at his face, he was nervous.

“...Are you new?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“To the stock things department, yes. This grocery store, no. I’m so sorry that I stocked it wrong but thank you for pointing it out for me.”

I immediately felt bad because I realized that I was being a dick over some food.

“I’m so sorry. I’m just having a bad day. It was just a complete shit show. My cat got sick, my car is on it’s last leg and my boss is on my ass and I ran out of chimichangas and forgot to restock my fridge so here I am today - “

I rambled on and on.

“Hey, it’s okay. We all have bad days. I thought this was about to be a bad day for me also because you were upset at me.”

“I’m sorry again. I’ll live without them. I should go home before I embarrass myself even more.”

I lowered my head now feeling shy and more aware of my surroundings.

“Before you go, I think I have something that will make your day a little better. Follow me.” He turned swiftly and started walking away.

“Uh, no. I’ve burdened you enough today, sir.”

He stopped and turned to face me again. A smile formed on his face. Were those dimples always there?

“Come on. I’m just taking you to a person who can solve your problems.”

“Oh o-okay.”

I followed behind Joaquin towards the front of the grocery store. He stopped in front of the deli section and tapped a hand on the counter to alert the workers.

“Hey~ is Margie in today?” He said sweetly to the teenage girl who could barely see over the huge counter.

“Yeah Curly, she’s in the back. Let me go get her.” She ran to the back and pushed the double doors with force.

I looked at Joaquin with furrowed brows and pursed lips.

“Why do they call you Curly?” A small smirk appeared on my face. He blushed and his hand went to his hair once again.

“My hair. It is how everyone finds me and the fact that I’m tall. Everyone has a nickname here. We are as much a family as capitalism will allow us to be. Margie is just...wait until you see her.”

The shock of blue hair caught my peripheral and I expected to see a teenager. No. A tall lady who was on enough to be my mama strolled up to the counter with a huge smile on her face.

“What can I do for ya, Curly Quin?” Her accent drawled as she leaned against the display case.

“We have a situation. Apparently, I suck at my job and a certain someone had an entire meltdown in the middle of the freezer aisle because they are having a bad day like it was my fault. I’m pretty sure they want to get me fired but I’m too cute for that, right? So we need a solution to their chimichanga problem.” He sarcastically and over exaggeratedly explained the situation to Margie and his smile got wider as he went on.

“So Grilled Cheese over here wants a chimichanga? How is that my problem?” Margie planted her eyes on me and I felt like I swallowed my heart.

For an old lady, her look was intense.

“I need the goods. The family secret, the whole enchilada, you get where I’m going with this. I’ll finally bring you back your book that you let me borrow when I first started working here.” Joaquin slapped on the puppy dog eyes and Margie rolled hers.

“I’ll believe it when I see it. That was a year ago. I’m never getting that book back and you know it. I’ll be back for you and Meltdown over here, assuming that is you.” She gave a small smile and moved to go towards the back doors. “Give me a sec.”

As soon as she disappeared, I face palmed and groaned.

“You guys are going to make fun of me forever, aren’t you?” I looked at him in despair.

“Oh yeah, you know it. Welcome to making history.” He smiled towards me, flashing a dimple.

“Is there a way that I can make everyone forget about this? I will pay you guys off. I promise. Just forget everything that happened here today.” I waved my hands in circular motions like I was casting a spell, earning odd looks from everyone around.

He laughed for the first time that night.

“It’s not every day a grown up has a total fit like a toddler. This has made my day and probably my whole week.”

I groaned again and stomped my foot in annoyance, ready to snap at him.

The back doors flew open and a brown paper bag was thrown in my direction. Joaquin and I fumbled to catch it at the same time and we butted heads.

“Good thing you knocked some sense into each other so I didn’t have to. Get out of here kids, your chimichanga problem is solved.” Margie smiled.

I opened the steaming paper bag and started crying.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” I started bouncing up and down with joy. I wrapped my arms around Joaquin and pulled him into a tight hug, crying on his shirt.

“No problem, I can’t breathe, please..let..go..” He said dramatically.

I immediately let go and cleaned my face putting on a huge smile. He took a deep breath and put his hand on his chest.

“You guys are the best and I am so sorry for taking my frustrations out on you. I really hope you can forgive me at some point.”

“Already forgiven. I just always want to do something positive with my day and make others smile. It’s all in a day’s work.”

“I don’t know how to thank you guys enough for the chimichangas.” I held the bag close to my heart, grinning widely.

“Go home and eat them. That’s thanks enough.” Margie deadpanned.

Oh. She was still there.

“Yes ma’am. Have a good night. Thank you for everything!” I waved goodbye to her.

“Don’t mention it kid.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow Margie!” He said to her.

She waved us off and we were on our way to the front doors of the store. We stopped just before the entrance, triggering the doors to automatically open. We were blocking the exit and people started going around us.

“I guess this is goodbye? Until I come in to restock my freezer again.” I said glumly, holding out my hand towards him to shake his hand.

“I guess so.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, placing it in my hand.

Question marks filled my brain as I looked down at his phone in my hand. He shyly placed his hand on the back of his neck.

“I told you whenever we restocked, I would give you a call so.. I would need your number for that.”

“Oh. But they already have my numb- Oh. Okay. Oh. Oh um, of course uh..”

I stuck my tongue out in concentration as I typed my name and number into his phone and handed it back to him.

“There you go. I uh, look forward to your call for whenever the chimichangas are back in stock.”

“Of course. I’m just doing my job. If they aren’t in stock and I’m off of work, can I still call you?”

My brain short circuited and I blinked rapidly at him. He was smooth. Toooo smooth. I studied his face for a joke.

“You aren’t joking with me, are you?” I put my hands on my hips.

“Nope, not one bit. Are you okay?” He questioned. I was sure smoke was coming out of my ears at this point.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just tired, it’s been a long day. I should get going.” I looked off towards the cars in the parking lot.

“It was nice to meet you. I’m sorry about your chimichangas and for my poor stocking skills.” He apologized sincerely.

“It was nice to meet you too, Joaquin. Thank you for everything. Am I allowed to hug you again?”

His brown eyes lit up and he furiously nodded. I wrapped my arms around him and he did the same to me. We let go as quickly as we started.

“I’ll see you around, Grilled Cheese.” He gave a two finger wave towards me and started walking backwards.

“Likewise, Joaquin Phoenix.” I started walking in the other direction.

“Haha. So original! It’s actually Falcon!” He shouted.

“What?” I stopped and turned back towards him but he was already gone.

I shrugged and walked towards my car. I opened the door and climbed inside, tossed the bag of chimichangas in the passenger seat and rested my head on the steering wheel. I released a huge sigh while lifting my head, started my car and began driving home. The street lights blurred past me on my drive home. My body was on autopilot as I opened the door, kicked my shoes off and sat on the couch next to my roommate with my bag of chimichangas.

I took a bite and immediately frowned.

‘Damn it. Steak and Cheese strikes again.’ I started laughing and shaking my head, dropping the chimichanga back in the bag.

“What is your problem?” My roommate said staring at the tv, not concerned to turn their head towards my hysterics.

“Nothing. I just had a meltdown in a freezer aisle and I think I fell in love with a stocker who is bad at his job.” I leaned back against the cushion of the couch and sighed dreamily.

“....no offense but you aren’t allowed to go to the store unsupervised ever again. You got issues...”

My phone began to ring and I just stared at the unknown number before answering.

“H-hello?” I stuttered.

“You will never guess what we just got in stock.” A light voice filled with laughter said over the phone. A huge smile formed on my face and I was booking it out of the door and yelled a quick bye to my roommate.

“I’m on my way.”

I hope you guys enjoyed this. I tried my best :)

[gucciwins]

Hate or Love

Harry and Y/N are stuck between two emotions, love and hate.

Word count: 5424

A/N: enemies to lovers, and yes there is a bit of smut. 

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

"What does the note from Harry say this time?"

Y/N doesn't have to turn around to know it's Dani who could not hold back her laughter. She turns her head to give her a stern look, ignoring the smile on her face. She turns her attention back to the folded sheet of paper addressed to Miss Cupcake. 

Y/N sighs. Her name is definitely not Miss Cupcake. Her neighbors know how to push her buttons. Hard. 

Asshole.

The door to her bakery swings wide open, and Sailor makes herself known. "Book club, ladies!" She yells. "I don't want to be late." Sailor stops right in front of them. Her eyes flicker to Dani's then Y/N's last to the note in Y/N's hands. A smile takes over her face.

"Stop. You both are too happy about these notes. It's ridiculous. May I remind you he's rude and very uptight." She slams the note down on the table. 

Dani gets up and makes sure to push her chair in to keep it nice and clean because she knows that's how Y/N likes the bakery. 

Dani and Sailor are wearing matching grins, and when together, they become a lot to handle. Dani is always the sweeter one, but not at this moment, she can melt the glare being sent to them both. Hand on her growing pregnancy belly and the other offered to Y/N. "Come on, let's see it." 

Y/N knows not to fight her and hands it right over. She knows that she loses all fights to her when she's cute and very pregnant. "Take it. It’s not even important."

"Sure, hun."

Sailor practically skips over to Dani as they huddle together to read the paper. Dani laughs before clearing her throat, obnoxiously. 

"Miss Cupcake-" She sends an amused look over to Y/N, and she rolls her eyes waiting for her to continue. "As I've mentioned in previous notes, I don't think your cat knows where it's home is. May you please get this under control, or I'll be forced to take action to fix this situation of ours. H" 

"That wasn't so bad. It's sweet." Y/N rolls her eyes, knowing it's hopeless. 

"Y/N, you should definitely go on a date with him. He's got a nice sense of humor. You agree right, Sail? If I didn't have Marco, I'd want a chance with him." 

Pregnancy makes Dani crazy. 

"Nope. You are both out of your mind." 

Dani waves the note as if the answer is right in front of her. "It's obvious he's only doing this to get you to talk to him. He wants to rile you up, which is obviously working."

"You can't really believe that. He hates me. And Alpine, obviously. He's the biggest sweetheart, he always comes home for a cuddle. I don't understand why he keeps going over there, I give him his favorite snacks, let him take over my pillows." Y/N sighs. 

Sailor taps her finger on her chin before pointing at Y/N. "He doesn't hate you."

She shakes her head in denial. "No, he does. He has from the moment he moved in."

Dani disagrees. "You almost hit him with a hockey stick when you first met him."

"Nope, you can't judge me for that. He started moving at four am. It was still dark, I got scared. My first thought, just like everyone else's, would be that someone broke in." She shakes her head at her friends. 

Sailor nods in agreement. "I think I would have hit him before he was able to get a word out. I understand your reaction."

Dani snorts at her. "Fair enough. I still think that you just got off on the wrong foot. He doesn't actually mind Alpine, but he does send you the notes because he can never use his balcony." She stops for a second before pointing her finger very close to your eye. "You're also partaken in the game."

"Me?" Y/N says in disbelief. "I'm an angel." 

"Yes, you. You're just going to ignore the catnip incident." Dani smirks

Heat rushes to Y/N's cheeks rather quickly. "Once. I did it once, and I was half sober." 

"Half sober?" Dani raises her eyebrows. 

"I don't get drunk, so yes, half sober." 

"I'm sure it was like two times, you called me after each time." 

Sailor throws Y/N a big grin. "Two times. You threw catnip on his balcony two times."

She shrugs. "Maybe I did, or maybe I didn't."

Sailor walks over and throws her arm over Y/N's shoulder, laughing. "Naughty, girl. You're bad, probably learned from me." 

The room fills with laughter at her comment, they calm down a moment after. Her face is still hot from her secret admission. 

Sailor's phone rings, and quickly after checking the screen, she nods as if answering the text. "As much as I want to know more, Abigail texted me. The girls are waiting for our arrival." 

Y/N lets out a slow breath of air. "Lead the way."

Dani leads the way, she looks back at Y/N over her shoulder. "Can't wait. Hot neighbor, here we come."

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

The first Thursday of the month. One of his favorite days, just like the third Thursday each month. It brings Harry lots of joy seeing his neighbor after each note. The color on her cheeks, stomping into the store as soon as she walks into the store. It's satisfying and sexy as hell.

Harry enjoys her sass and her beauty; their fun little game has allowed him to accept his new routine. He didn't expect to run a book/coffee shop. But he could never say no to his grandmother when she announced she was ready to retire. After losing his grandfather, she hasn't been the same. Gemma and Harry try their best to support her. He runs the shop, and Gemma visits as much as she can with her kids. He's lucky his mum runs the book store allowing him to focus on the rest. 

His grandmother never mentioned the book club of ladies that came included with the store. It's only two days a month, but it's nice. He enjoys having them there. Dot, Abigail, Margie, Sailor, Dani, and Y/N are the core of the group and a few others that attend sporadically. 

Y/N, his neighbor with her business next door and her apartment above and right next door, is Harry's favorite. She brings the delicious treats, everyone, raves about that she shares even though he knows it pains her. Bless her good manners. She's also a stunning woman. The most beautiful person he has ever seen. A true masterpiece. 

Harry walks over to the group, he stands directly behind where Y/N is sitting. "Good evening to you all." 

Harry knows all the other ladies have picked up on their flirty game. They caught on pretty quickly, everyone but her. Y/N's great, but how can someone so cute have no clue that he’s interested. Harry knows there has to be something there because she steals glances at him. 

"Would you all like your usual?" Harry's gaze moves across the group, catching everyone's collective yes's. "I'll get right on it." 

Harry walks out a big grin on his face. He's quick to finish their orders and bring them out. He heads back for the last two when he stops from entering the back room when he hears Y/N voicing her thoughts. 

"It seems unrealistic. No man will sweep you off your feet then kiss you breathless. Even less press you against a wall and kiss you until you forget your own name. The men we read about are fictional and hard to find if there are any left." 

Harry would love to kiss her, give her all the pleasure possible. He'd give it to her whenever she asked. 

The women are nodding along to her. Dani spots him standing there, and Harry has the sudden urge to go back to the station. She has a hard gaze set on him, and he feels like it's trouble waiting to happen. 

She smirks, her eyes not straying from Harry's "Oh, I believe there are men still out there. Don't you, Harry?"

Shit. 

Just as quickly, all eyes turn to me, and he plasters a grin on his face as he sets down the drinks for Dani and Sailor. He is quick to gather his thoughts, knowing they are waiting on him. "Yes, those men are out there. No one is perfect, but they are passionate and kind. The right partner brings out the best in you, all bets are off all is fair game for them both. Think it makes a relationship stronger and definitely spices up the bedroom."

Y/N mutters something under her breath that sounds like, "Okay, sure."

Harry is quick to look her way and catches her gaze. "Sorry, I missed that Y/N."

"What?" She questions back as her blush deepens, not breaking the stare. 

"You don't think that man is out there. You don't think a man can be passionate?" Harry wants her to see it in him. 

She shakes her head, causing loose hairs to fall out of her messy bun framing her face. He wants to reach out and brush it back. "No, they exist. I do believe they are out there. It's just incredibly rare, and most likely already taken. 

Harry nods, agreeing with her, as do. the ladies around her. "Could be that you aren't looking in the right places. Maybe," Harry pauses, looking her right in the eyes. "you aren't open to finding someone like that. or you're just picking the wrong ones." 

She leans back, and a look of hurt passing through her eyes, and Harry feels terrible. He didn't want to come across as an asshole, but that is precisely what happened. Hae's doing it all wrong. Harry hears the small chime of the door opening and takes that as his cue to leave. "Excuse me, ladies. Sorry to interrupt." 

Harry is happy to leave, unsure if he stayed there any longer he'd do something stupid like actually kiss Y/N. 

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Y/N is whisking the batter for cupcakes when her thoughts drift back to Harry. 

Maybe you aren't open to finding someone. 

Three days since the book club and his voice is stuck in her head on a loop, it drives her crazy. He hurt her, but maybe he's right. 

Or you're picking the wrong ones.

He doesn't know her, how can he be right. Y/N is going to drive herself crazy thinking about this. Maybe every guy she's met has been perfect, and she's the one who ruins it. Perhaps, she's meant to never be loved. She sets down the bowl and whisk and sighs. Love might not even be for her. 

"Looks like lots of fun being in here." 

Y/N jumps and turns around quickly to wipe her face of the tear that slipped down her face. That male voice is unfamiliar in her back room. Her heart continues to pound as her eyes meet bright green ones. 

She sees his eyes shift to her outfit before landing on her eyes. She knows they're puffy and red because she got little to no sleep last night. Harry's got a shining smile, and she currently doesn't want to deal with his remarks no matter how right or wrong. 

He looks good in a loose white t-shirt and mustard flared pants that compliment his thighs well. Y/N stops staring when she reaches his eyes once more and sees the smirk on his face with a hint of concern. Y/N can't believe she's attracted to Harry, hell she might like him. She looks behind Harry and sees the piping bags waiting to be filled with pink frosting. She'd like to lick it off Harry. Y/N takes a step back to shake his thoughts out of her head. 

"Did you need something, or was ruining my day the only thing you had on the agenda?"

"Harsh." His hand flies to his chest in mock. That feeling is quick to disappear, and it's replaced by what looks like concern or even worry. "I heard a noise when I came back from a small delivery thought I'd check it out. These close back doors come in handy."

"Well, all is good here. Your presence is not needed." Y/N shoots him a fake smile, hoping it'll get him out of here. She feels guilty, she might have been a little mean. She was never known to be mean, but she doesn't know what it is about him. 

There's so much to say to Harry, but she knows he won't even hear it. Harry probably doesn't even realize how the words stayed with me, especially after saying it in front of the other ladies. He's judged me just like everyone else has, and for once, they might be right.

Maybe the men she chose did suck. She hated having high expectations, but it's what her mother taught her to do. Allow yourself only the best love and not to stop until she finds it. Until now, she's still looking. Maybe, she should stop.

Harry takes a step inside, he's four steps away. He looks too good, and what she wants to do is say he was right about her. That she wants him to show her what she's been missing all along. Then he'll grab her by the waist, sit her on the table and kiss her senseless. 

Too bad, life isn't a romance novel. 

She turns back around, going back to whisking. "Your grandma's cupcakes will be ready soon. Brandon is going to box them up, take them over, and save you the trip. 

"Did I do something?" She hears him take a few more steps, meaning he's right behind her. "I can tell you're upset. I can help." 

Y/N grips the table, trying to keep her calm. "You just made me realize that I was the problem in all my past relationships. That I'm the problem, all those past guys were never good to me. That it's my fault I was—" She cuts herself off before sharing more than she intended. “It doesn't matter, I see your point."

She can't see Harry's reaction, but she knows he's shocked. She's waiting for him to say something.

"That wasn't what I meant when I said that," Harry says slowly as if she'd turn around to hit him. 

"Tell me what you meant then." She meant to say it softly, but it came out harsh. 

"Y/N, there is someone here for a cake and want to have a consult with you." A worker of hers peeks through the door. 

"I'll be right there, Tamara. Please have them wait for me in the consulting room." Y/N shoots her a smile, and she leaves. 

Y/N heads to the sink to wash her hands and then leaves through the door Tamara left through. All without another glance or word to Harry. 

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

It's nightfall, and Harry feels awful. If Harry didn't know why he was feeling so bad, he'd think he would have a heart attack. The way she broke down on him. Harry hurt her, he didn't mean to, but he did. He's the biggest idiot. Instead of having her fall in love, he made her hate him. 

Harry had just turned off the lights and headed to his room when he heard a knock on his door. He turns the hallway light on before heading to the door.

Y/N and Harry share the main door to get access to the apartments meaning someone has to buzz to get in, but since it's a knock. Harry knows it's her. He's never been more thankful to see her beautiful face. 

There she stands in all her beauty. Her hair is a mess atop her head, makeup-free face, and a pair of short cupcake pajamas. Very fitting for his nickname for her. Her stunning eyes stare into him, sparking and ready to attack. 

She lifts her hand to point the finger at him.

"I'm angry with you." 

Harry nods. "Okay."

"You started this downfall I fell in. I can't stop thinking about all the dating and pleasure. I don't like it, and I don't need it, you got it?" 

Her cheeks go red before her next words. 

"It's not my fault. I haven't been able to find a good guy. It's also not my fault; they didn't treat me well." 

"Okay."

"I know my worth, and you and your words aren't going to mess that up. I'll keep my standards high, and I'll keep respecting myself." 

"Okay." 

"Harry, you're driving me crazy. Stop saying okay."

"Ok—" He's cut off by her finger landing on my lips. Her touch sends chills down his body, and he honestly craves more. Harry wants to take that finger in his mouth, lick it, and suck it as he wants to do the rest of her body. 

A gasp leaves her mouth, and Harry swears must be having the same thoughts as him. It's sexy, and Harry only has so much self-control. Harry wants to take a step forward, wrap his hands around her hips to pull her close to finally feel his skin against hers. Six months, he's been waiting six months for the very moment he could make her his. 

She's quick to move her finger away. She doesn't know what to say, and for a moment, neither does Harry. Her eyes meet Harry's finally, and he sees the desire burning in her. He steps close, giving her a chance to stop him or tell him, no, but that small nod is all he needs. 

Y/N is in his arms, and her mouth is on his. They attack each other like they're starving. 

Harry wants her. He wants her forever. 

All his life was leading up to this very moment. She's letting him in, and he couldn't be more grateful. 

Wine and chocolate Harry tastes that on her tongue. 

Intoxicating 

She moans into his mouth and presses closer, his hands begin to wonder as do hers. Her fingers tightening in his hair. She's driving Harry crazy, igniting a fire deep inside him. His hands grab her ass tightly, needing her close. 

Y/N breaks the kiss, her breathing harsh and warm in my face. "More...Harry, I want... more." 

That's all Harry needs to drag her into his apartment, shutting the door. He presses her against the cool wood, all thoughts the only focus is bringing her the pleasure she deserves. She bites his lip, and Harry lets out a low moan. She gasps when she feels how hard he is against her, wrapping a leg around his hips to get them even closer. 

Harry groans, he bends a little to grab her other leg. "Hold on, baby."

She holds on tightly, her hands around my neck. Harry tries his best not to lose control, he doesn’t want to come in his pants. He would never recover from the embarrassment.

Y/N arches her back, and she exposes her beautiful throat to Harry. He doesn't think twice before attacking. Biting, sucking, licking. He gives it all to her. Her moans and whimpers allow him to keep going knowing that she is enjoying it. Harry has never been this hard in his life, he wants this forever. 

Harry feels her breast and looks down to see her nipples straining against her top's thin fabric. He tugs on one through the material, and Y/N writhes against me, rubbing herself desperately against him. Harry's just as desperate feeling the friction. 

Harry shifts her weight in his arms to move one of his hands between their bodies, finding her sensitive spot. He wants to see her come, he craves it. 

Harry returns his lips back to hers simultaneously, his fingers slip between her shorts and find the right spot. Harry's the one holding her, but Y/N's the one in control controlling our kiss and moving against his hand that is against her wet silk panties. 

Harry swallows every moan and whispers she lets out, it's all for him. She lets a loud moan against his lips then breathes out his name. Harry knows he's ruined forever after watching her come. 

Harry knew how amazing she was from the moment she almost hit him with a hockey stick while wearing her sunflower pajamas. He didn't expect her to change his entire life. 

He helps her come down her high as they both try to catch their breaths. As he set her down, he didn't pull away, keeping his hands on her waist and lips close by. Harry feels on fire, having her so close still. Harry brushes away the hair framed around her face, and he cups her cheeks, he's making sure he has her full attention. "Let's make one thing clear. Every single man you dated was an idiot. Any man and I mean any, would be lucky to have you." 

Y/N swallows. "Okay." 

He nods, "Okay?"

She nods her head up and down. "Okay, yes." 

Harry slips his hand in hers and brings it to his lips to kiss her soft hands. "Let's get some sleep." 

Harry leads the way with a smile on his face. As soon as they enter the room, he scoops in his arms and drops her gently in the bed, he climbs in the act. Once they are both comfortable, he drops the covers over them.

Harry hugs her tight. He's never been happier than he is right now with her in his arms. 

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

"Can you repeat that?" Sailor's and Julia's voice blasts from the phone speaker. Y/N's thankful they aren't there to witness her embarrassment. Her face feels on fire. 

"Uhh...I left. I walked right out." 

Silence fills the air of the apartment. 

Dani sighs. She knows it is Dani because she's dramatic and likes to really drag it out. As much as they tease her, they love her, and she loves them. 

 "Explain, please." 

Y/N takes a sip of her chamomile tea that always helps her relax, but that's not the case this time. "Well, you know what happened last night. I woke up a little freaked out in his arms. Not that it was bad, it was amazing. I panicked."

"Continue," Dani urges her on. 

“I gave him a wave and walked out." Y/N knows that's embarrassing and doesn't want to see Harry. 

Dani is the first to laugh then Sailor follows suit. 

Y/N lets out a little laugh because it was funny, not her proudest moment. 

"Harry seems like an understanding person. Talk to him." Sailor suggested, all while still laughing. "Please stop embarrassing yourself."

The doorbell rings before she gets a chance to answer. "I've got to go. My pizza has arrived. Thanks for listening." 

The girls say their goodbyes and hang up. Y/N stands to go check the intercom but is only greeted by silence, she slips her shoes on to go check downstairs. Instead, she opens the door, Harry stands in front of it with her pizza in hand. The smile he gives her is one she hasn't seen before, but she'll be craving to see more. His dimples in full display, his eyes crinkle in a way she's never noticed before. She likes it—a lot.

"Hi." She glances down, and she's suddenly reminded of the clothes she threw on after her shower. Not her cutest top and shorts. Definitely, nothing impressive. 

Her nerves lessen when she catches his eyes roaming her body. She sees the lust in his eyes, the desire growing as he reaches her face. She wants to kiss him, but that's not the smartest move. "Is that my pizza?" She points to the box in his hands.

He nods and lets out a small laugh, "Yeah. I saw the delivery guy and thought I might convince you to share it with me." 

"Oh." 

"What do you say?" 

"Well, what do you have to offer? I'm not keen on sharing my pizza." She raises an eyebrow at him. The playful banter is back, but now the butterflies in her stomach are in full attack. 

Harry moves the pizza box to his side, allowing him to step forward. 

"Because—" He captures her lips with his. "I know," his lips brush along her jaw, "how to repay you." He sucks gently on her neck, a shiver running through her body. 

She knows exactly what he's referring to, and she's more than happy to accept. He pulls back and has a smirk on his face remembering the effect he has on her. Y/N bites her lip, allowing Harry to think she's thinking it over when his hand connects with her butt in response. He then squeezes, having her lean forward and fall against his chest. 

"I want all of you." She feels his chest rising faster, having her so close. "Please, no more running, Miss Cupcake." 

Y/N takes a breath to try her best to get herself under control, but she can't because all she smells is him. He smells like home. The smell of coffee and sugar mixing perfectly together. 

"Sorry, Harry. Last night was really amazing, but it just got to be too much in the morning. I mean, you know I've never done any of that." She pauses for a moment, mind-spinning because they do know a lot about each other. Life kept pushing them together. "And…I wasn't sure if it was a one-time thing or—"

His lips are on hers, his tongue urgently demanding entry, all words completely gone. A thud is heard, and the next second Y/N is in his arms, and she never wants to leave. His hands are in her hair, she moans the only noise filling the quiet apartment. 

Y/N pulls him closer by his shirt. She feels Harry flex as her skin touches him. Alpine lets out a cry from the chair he's sleeping on, pulling them out of the moment. 

Harry clears his throat, and she knows he's as messed up as her. She's trying her best to get her thoughts in order. "Would you like to come in?" 

Harry's eyes go wide, shining bright. "You're willing to share your pizza with me?"

"On the condition that you behave." Y/N laughs at his shock expression as if he could not be on his best behavior for her. 

Harry picks up the pizza box from when he dropped it. "Not fair, especially when you tempt me looking like that." 

"This turns you on." Y/N is surprised, closing the door as Harry makes his way to her couch. 

"Oh, baby. You're stunning. You make me lose my mind every time." 

She's blushing. Harry really likes her, she didn't expect that confession. She had gone most of her life not liking her body or looks, but over time she's come to love who she is. It was not easy, and there are still bad days, but having Harry tell her this makes her feel special. 

"Harry, have you liked me the entire time?" 

Harry's grin is sheepish. He holds his hand out, and she grabs it without a second thought. "Yes. God, yes, how could I not. I watched you go on a date with those idiots, giving you the time you needed to figure out what was right in front of you." He kisses her knuckles before he raises his head, allowing her to see his smirk. "Enjoying our game."

"Harry" It's all she manages to get out. 

"Don't gotta say anything. I'm all in." He tugs on her hand, having her land on his lap. "Don't think I'm ever letting you go again."

Y/N loves the sound of that. She doesn't know why Harry thinks all of this about her, but she's all in. 

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Eight Months

"Honey?" 

Harry can't help the grin that takes over his face when he hears Y/N call him that. It'll never get old. 

"Yes, what do you need?" He's wrapping the towel around his waist, coming out of the bathroom. 

"Bedroom, please." 

She is quick to look over her shoulder as Harry walks in. He sees her eyes lingering on his butterfly tattoo, her favorite he's come to learn. Harry loves it when she looks at him, he sees all the love she has for him.

Y/N is holding something, and as he steps closer, he is quick to recognize it. He cracks a smile. He doesn't bother keeping in his laughter. 

"I did not remember that was there." 

"Harry, please tell me why you have catnip hidden behind a Spice Girls ‘SpiceWorld’ hoodie?" She lowers the catnip and slowly closes the distance between them. 

He clears his throat, running a hand through his hair. "All I wanted was sweet Alpine to be my friend." 

She shakes her head. "You're telling me that you put catnip on your balcony so he'd come over?"

Harry nods. Of course, he did; it was his most excellent idea. "Yes." 

"So did I." She whispers. 

Harry's eyes go wide. "You did?" He pulls her against him, causing her to let out a small shriek. "Do you have to be so perfect and crazy?"

"Just for you, Honey." She leans in close, breaths mixing together. "Two big reasons you love me." 

Harry nods. "Two of the million reasons." 

He reaches for her shirt and slips it off relatively easy. "Will you let me show you other reasons with my mouth, and my tongue and. . ." He cuts off as he grinds into her. His hands gently cupping her breasts. He drops his head and licks a path down her throat.

A sexy moan leaves her lips. "This is going to be quick, you in these black leggings always drive me crazy." He kisses your neck, and he guides you to the bed. 

Harry slides his hand down her leggings, and just as he was suspecting she's soaking wet. She's ready for him. He's quick to take them off, making sure there's no tear before letting his towel drop. 

Harry sinks in one swift move, making them moan in unison. "Fuck, baby. You feel so good." 

His thrusts are fast and hard, never slowing down. Harry can tell she's close when she begins to fist the bed. He leans down close, missing the feel of her lips against his. "Come for me, baby." He goes a few more, not slowing down, he feels her walls tightening.

"Harry!" She moans, just as her high hits. Harry is quick to follow, her expressions always helping him find his release. 

Harry falls against the bed pulling Y/N to lay on top of him. He wants her close, he always does. 

"I love you." He locks eyes with her wanting to see them sparkle.

The sweet smile she gives Harry is his favorite. "I love you."

Harry sits up against the headboard bringing Y/N closer to his chest. He begins to look around his almost empty room. The idea to turn their apartments into one was brilliant, but it has been a lot of work. Harry isn't fond of getting rid of items in his closet, which is why Y/N was there earlier.

"Are you happy, Harry?" Y/N asks as she traces a sparrow on his chest. It's soothing. 

He brings his hand down to her cheek, and he lifts her face gently to have her look at him. "Never been happier." She leans in to kiss him but doesn't allow him to deepen in. "Are you?" 

"Very." She kisses his dimples and settles back on his chest, continuing with what she was doing. 

At this moment, Harry knows he's never been happier, and they has a lifetime of happiness waiting for them.

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚ ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Thank you for reading. I love you

Please come by and talk to me about what you thought of Hate or Love 

[justlookfrightened]

How about number 11 from the fluff prompts?

From this prompt list:  “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

I did have to modify slightly to “Were you flirting with me ...”

Background: Bitty went to Samwell and stayed in New England. Jack didn’t go to Samwell but still plays for the Falconers.

Bitty had just set out the pie samples when the man in the yellow shoes ran by.

Every week, just at this time, the man ran through the just-opened market, keeping to the center of the aisle and never stopping to look at anything. Not the sweet, crisp lettuces or heirloom tomatoes from Bruce’s stand across the way, not the strawberries and blueberries that Harry had displayed, not the lavender and honey soaps from the booth next to Bitty’s.

It wasn’t really a bother. The man came early enough that there weren’t many customers to disturb, and the market was in a public park. Anyone could jog through it if they wanted to. It was just annoying that the man never even looked around or acknowledged anyone. And that he looked so good doing it, hideous yellow shoes notwithstanding.

Today he was wearing the shoes and navy blue running shorts -- the kind that barely reached the top of his thighs -- and a dark ball cap with sunglasses. What looked like a blue T-shirt was tucked into the back of his waistband, the better to sweat freely and give anyone who was out and about an eyeful of his shoulders, pecs and abs. Not to mention the massive rear end. All of which was damn near poster-perfect.

Bitty sighed and looked over at Margie, who had paused from setting up her stand to stare as well.

She caught Bitty’s glance and pantomimed fanning herself.

“You should try to sell him some soap,” Bitty said . “He’s gonna need a shower after that run.”

“Forget him,” Margie said. “I’m going to need a shower after watching him.”

The sun rose higher in the sky as Bitty’s stock of pies, cookies, muffins and turnovers got lower. The sample slices disappeared first, of course, but nearly everyone who took one bought something, so they were definitely a success. Maybe next week he should do more samples? Maybe apple and cherry? Or peach?

He was mulling fruit choices over when he noticed a customer -- well, a potential customer at least -- standing off to the side looking at his table. The guy was tall and broad across the shoulders, clean shaven, with the lightest blue eyes Bitty had ever seen on someone with hair so dark. His baggy shorts and ratty T-shirt, combined with socks and athletic slides, reminded Bitty of his old hockey teammates.

Bitty stood up.

“Can I get you something, sir?”

“Euh,” the man stalled, then looked at the table again. “Do you have a sample I could try?”

The man’s accent wasn’t as harsh as the New England voices that Bitty had finally gotten used to after six years in Boston and Providence. It wasn’t a southern drawl, that was for sure, but Bitty couldn’t place it.

“Not anymore,” Bitty said. “You have to wake up earlier to get those. I’ve got a couple of apple pies and peach pies left, and some cherry turnovers. Chocolate-cherry cookies, too, but I’m afraid everything else is sold out.”

“Um, how much for a cookie?”

“$6.50 for a dozen,” Bitty said. “I know it sounds like a lot, but …”

“A lot of cookies?” the man said. “I’m not sure I can have that many.”

“You can’t find anyone to give some to? Everyone likes a little sugar.”

“Haha,” the man said. “I guess.”

He handed over a $10 bill, took the cookies and left before Bitty could make change.

*

The following week, Bitty and Margie again paused in their set-up when the man in the yellow shoes ran by.

“Of all the markets I go to, this one definitely has the best view,” Margie said, turning back to her soaps. 

“You know it,” Bitty said, arranging morsels cut from apple, cherry and peach mini-pies on a tiered stand to offer as samples.

Once again, Bitty had sold most of his stock by time he was considering getting a start on packing up. Once again, the man with ice-blue eyes appeared, hanging back until Bitty noticed him.

“Did you like the cookies last week?” he asked.

“Um, yeah,” the man said. “And I shared them with my … friend. He liked them, too.”

Bitty looked up, wondering what the awkward hesitation before the word “friend” meant. Did he not really share them? Why lie about that? A dozen cookies wasn’t too many for one person to eat in a week, and Bitty hadn’t even asked who ate them. Was his “friend” not really a friend? Maybe more of an acquaintance, like a neighbor or coworker? Or maybe more than a friend? A wife? But he said “he.” A boyfriend? A husband?

Bitty tried to get a read on the man, but when he looked up, the man was looking down at the table, at the card reader with the pride flag sticker and the  now-empty sample stand.

“Looks like I missed the samples again,” the man said. 

“Looks like you did,” Bitty agreed. “You’ve got to get up pretty early to get those.”

“Do you have more of those cookies?”

“Sorry, not this week. Maybe try something different? Peaches are in season and I make a mean peach pie.”

“Why would I want a mean pie?” the man asked.

Now the cute accent came with dad jokes.

“Haha,” Bitty said. “I’ll have you know I won the blue ribbon at the tri-county fair with my pie when I was still in high school.”

“I think a pie is too much for me,” the man said. “It’s not as easy to share as cookies.”

“I’ve got just the thing,” Bitty said. “You can take my last half-dozen mini-pies, and since I’m packing up, I’ll only charge you for three. There’s four peach and two cherry. That’ll be $13.50.”

The man handed over a $20, and this time Bitty didn’t pass him his food until he accepted the change. The man just dropped it in the tip cup.

“Thank you, sir,” Bitty saud. “Y’all have a good week now.”

“Good-looking and generous,” Margie said from the next booth over.  “Why do I only get little old ladies or girls who want their bathrooms to smell nice?”

“Because you sell soap?”

“Don’t men want their bathrooms to smell nice?”

“Well, I do,” Bitty said. 

*

The following week’s market started much the same way, with the runner in the yellow sneakers kicking off the day, this time carrying a balled up red T-shirt in one large hand.

Bitty arranged sliced of apple and cherry turnovers as samples and displayed his pies and cookies, then passed the time between customers chatting with Margie and Bruce across the way.

“You think your boyfriend’s coming back?”

“What boyfriend would that be?” Bitty asked, as though he hadn’t spent a good part of the week daydreaming about blue eyes, sharp cheekbones and broad shoulders.

Once again, just when he was getting ready to close up, Blue Eyes showed up, this time with an even larger man. His friend? Or “friend”? 

The bigger man walked right up to the table, not hanging back like Blue Eyes usually did.

“Hello,” he said, smiling widely, the word flavored with an accent Bitty couldn’t quite place. “Jack says you make the best pies. You have blueberry?”

“Uh, not this week?” Bitty said. “Maybe next week, if I can get enough blueberries. I can make sure to save one for you, Mr. --”

“Alexei,” the man said. “You can call me Alexei.”

“Okay,” Bitty said, writing the name on a sticky note. “I’ll save a blueberry pie for Alexei, Jack’s friend. Can I get you anything today?”

“I see you have lemon bars,” Alexei said. “Six of those?”

“And what about you, Jack? It’s on the house. I noticed the extra $20 in my tip jar last week.”

“You don’t have to,” Jack said. “I like what you make, and it’s your business, so you should be paid. Um, you have a cherry pie left?”

“Just one,” Bitty said.

“It’s amazing,” Alexei said, “that you get this guy to eat dessert. Usually he only eats protein. All the time.”

“Protein is good for you,” Jack defended himself.

“Well, sure it is, hon,” Bitty said. “But you have to have a balanced diet.”

Both men paid, and Alexei said, “Maybe Jack will come get my pie next week from you -- wait, I don’t know your name.”

“Eric,” Bitty said. “But most everyone calls me Bitty.”

“Bitty baker,” Alexei crowed. “Excellent.”

“Bye, Bitty,” Jack said quietly.

After they left, Bitty collapsed dramatically on the table.

“Why are all the good ones taken?” he said.

“Who said he was taken?” Margie said. “Maybe they’re just friends.”

“Friends who pick up pie for each other?”

*

Bitty was well stocked with blueberry pies the next week, and he dutifully put one aside for Alexei. The berries had been so plentiful at the market that he’d made a couple of dozen blueberry bite-sized blueberry tartlets to set on his sample stand.

Bitty was just placing it on the table when the man with the yellow shoes loped past. 

“Put your tongue back in your mouth.” Margie was laughing at him. “You have your guy who comes every week. This one is mine.”

“Hush, you,” Bitty said. “I have a regular customer. That doesn’t mean I can’t feast my eyes on what’s on display.”

Then he stopped talking and busied himself with his display, because the man had broken his pattern and turned around when he reached the end of the market. He was headed back down the aisle.

Bitty was preparing himself to nod at the man, who for once seemed to be looking his way instead of straight ahead, but it was hard to see from behind the man’s sunglasses.

Wait, the man was heading right toward him, slowing to a trot as he passed the table.

“I see you got the blueberries,” he said. “Save one of those for me?”  

Bitty was glad the man -- Jack -- kept moving, because he knew his jaw nearly hit the table.

Once he managed to close his mouth, he turned back to Margie. “Still not my boyfriend,” he said. “But jiminy crickets. How did I not know it was the same guy?”

“You were blinded by the shoes?” Margie suggested. “Or, you know, the totally ripped half-naked body.”

“At least he’ll be dressed when he comes back,” Bitty said, placing three of the tartlets into a container that he put with Alexei’s pie. 

“The better not to drool over him?” Margie asked.

“Yeah,” Bitty said. “Pretty sure that’s considered bad customer service.”

Bitty spent the rest of the morning on pins and needles. It was fine, he told himself. His (very handsome) customer was the same as the (very hot) guy who ran through the market early every morning. The guy who never showed any sign that he even realized there were other people there, let alone that those people might be looking at him.

To him, Bitty was just the guy who sold cookies and pies. But his friend said Jack didn’t usually eat sweets, Bitty remembered.

Maybe Jack was buying them for Alexei. Maybe they were … it wasn’t right to say “more than friends,” Shitty would have his head for that. 

But they hadn’t seemed, well, couple-y, last week. And Bitty was pretty sure Jack lived alone. And Bitty couldn’t believe he had gotten himself wrapped up in whether there was an ethical difference in spinning daydreams about a customer based on whether the customer had a significant other. They were daydreams, for pity’s sake, and nothing would come of them.

Good thing the tartlets were doing their job and Bitty’s baked goods were more or less selling themselves today.

The stand was so successful that Bitty sold out of everything except the tartlets and pie he was saving for Jack and Alexei a half-hour before he usually packed up. 

He took his time stacking his trays, folding his tablecloths, stowing equipment in now-empty coolers for the trip home.

“Leaving already?” Margie asked. “Want me to hang on to the pie for when he gets here?”

“Nah,” Bitty said. “I’ll wait.”

Once he had everything stacked and ready to go to the truck, he sat in his folding chair and pulled out his phone to answer comments on his latest video.

He had just explained -- for the six-hundredth time -- how shortening and butter behave differently in pie crust when he heard a throat clear a few feet above him.

The Jack he saw when he looked up was different from the ones he had seen so far. No tiny running shorts or baggy basketball shorts, no horrid yellow shows or shower sandals. This Jack had on dark wash jeans that had to be tailored to fit like that, a snug T-shirt and a flannel button-down left open and with the sleeves rolled above the elbow. The moccasin-style shoes were a nice bonus. He looked a little familiar, but Bitty supposed that went with the fantasizing.

“Bitty?” Jack said. “Are you done for the day?”

“I am,” Bitty said, getting up and then immediately bending over to pick up the boxes for Jack. “But I saved you some tartlets and Alexei’s pie is here.”

“How much do I owe you?” Jack said.

“The pie is $20 even,” Bitty said. “But you can catch up to me next week if you don’t have cash.”

“I’m good for it,” Jack said, reaching for his wallet. “More to the point, so is Tater. What about the little blueberry things?”

“No charge,” Bitty said. “Samples, remember?”

“Samples are for people who get here early,” Jack said.

“You were here early,” Bitty said. “You just couldn’t take them with you. No, uh, pockets.”

“You think I’d put them in my pockets?”

Jack handed over two crisp twenties.

“It’s just $20,” Bitty said.

“For your trouble,” Jack said. “I’ll get Tater to pay me back.”

“Why do you call him Tater?”

“Hockey nickname,” Jack said. “He’s my teammate.”

“You play hockey?” Bitty said. “Where?”

“With the Falconers?” Jack said. 

Suddenly it clicked.

“Alexei … Mashkov? And you’re Jack Zimmermann!”

“Uh, yeah,” Jack said, ducking his head to look around to see if anyone heard. He raised his hand to his head like he wanted to pull the brim of his cap down, but with no cap, he ended up brushing away the hair that had curled onto his forehead. “Sorry you had to wait for me. Do you need a hand moving your things?”

“Aw, you don’t have to do that, hon,” Bitty said. “It’s a kind offer, though.”

“I don’t mind,” Jack said. “I was hoping maybe after you were done clearing up, you’d want to get coffee with me? Or a late lunch? Or something?”

Bitty managed to keep his mouth closed, but only just. A quick glance to the side told him Margie hadn’t been so successful.

“You don’t have to,” Jack said. “It’s fine. I mean, I know you shouldn’t ask people out when they’re working, so that’s why I wanted to wait until you were done --”

“No, sugar,” Bitty said. “I’d love to get lunch with you. Just so I know, though, you mean like a date?”

“Yes?” Jack said. “Wasn’t that clear? After all these weeks? Tater said he thought you liked me.”

“Wait,” Bitty said. “Were you flirting with me?”

“You finally noticed?”

“Never mind,” Bitty said. “Got there in the end, didn’t I?”

Jack started pushing the dolly with the folded table and stacked coolers towards the parking lot. As soon as he passed, Bitty flashed Margie a thumbs-up, picked up his chair and trays, and followed.

[theobligatedklutz]

Would you write more book club + sunset curve hcs please

Part 2 to @lyra-pador 's post with my addition (thank you for letting me use your brain child)

One book club meeting, Margie asks Luke if he takes requests and he gets so excited, he starts hopping around like a puppy because they actually like our music ("they don't count, they're adults" "shuddup Alex, Margie doesn't like anything but she likes our music!"). "Yes! Yes! We take requests." "Do you know Brandy?" And of course he does, they do, they are not neadrathals. And so they play the tune and at the chorus, every one sings along and Luke has never been happier.

It's Alex's birthday when Carolyn shows up at a book club meeting, unexpected. She never ever shows up for two consecutive meetings like this and everyone is curious as to why until she hands Alex a book wrapped in red ribbon and ruffles his hair and tells him "happy birthday, 'lex." Alex just about dies right then and there. Because his parents didn't remember or didn't care, the only people who knew about it were Luke and Reggie, yet here is Carolyn wishing him a happy birthday and he starts crying. Carolyn isn't expecting it because the next moment, she has her arms full of tall blonde BABIE.

Linda nearly sprints to the nearby bakery to get Alex a cake. And yells at the boys to tell her when they're all born because this can't happen again, she can't buy a store-bought cake again.

Jill has this warm checkered red flannel that she wears around the house on cold days and Reggie takes his chance one day when it's sitting, undisturbed, on the arms of the sofa in Jill's living room. He puts it on and when Jill finally notices after their weekend dinner together, she smiles and pretends not to. It's when Reggie is about to leave that he realizes he still has it on and he apologizes to Jill and tries to take it off. "Keep it." She tells him and kisses his forehead for the first time. And he hasn't been kissed on the forehead for such a long time that he almost doesn't understand it. "Thanks..." he almost utters the word 'mom' but hesitates. He wishes now that he said it then.

When Linda finds out about Luke being a runaway (from Mr. Jenkins, the gossip) and Alex and Reggie spending most of their time out of home, she starts bringing ziplock bags to every bookclub meeting, telling the boys to take whatever they want from the snack table. The snack table is no longer the snack table when the rest of the members find out (they all start bringing in lasagnas, casserole, pot pies, beef roast (you name it!) for the boys to take with them; "don't worry about returning the dishes, hon.").

Reggie finds out one of the bookclub ladies, a nice 40-something year old named Enid, is learning the bass and he takes it upon himself to give her lessons. She tries to pay him for his services but he refuses, he tells her the only currency he'll take is sunset curve propaganda; "just tell your friends about us, we're sunset curve!" Enid forces her 13-year-old her to make flyers for the band, spreading them around the block, around town and yelling "they're sunset curve, tell your friends!"

Luke sometimes asks Mr. Jenkins how his mom and dad are doing and Mr. J always puts a hand to his shoulder and tells him "they really want you home." Of course, Luke never listens.

Alex gathers the stack of LGBTQ+ novels he's gathered up in the garage (because he can't take them home) to return to Carolyn. She doesn't take them, tells him to keep them. "...I..I can't. They are cluttering up the garage and I can't take them home..." A look of rage, then sadness passes across Carolyn's face before she tells him she understands. "My house is always open to you. You know that, right?" And that night, Alex dreams about having Carolyn as his mother, never a cold touch, never the unacceptance, and a library filled with books about queer love stories... he smiles in his sleep.

With the argument with his mom and his haste to get away, Luke forgets to take his lucky blue rabbit's foot with him the night he runs away from home. Emily knows Luke doesn't go anywhere without it because she gave it to him, she remembers how quickly he became attached to it and how "mom, I've gotten every gig since I started taking it with me everywhere." She gives it to Mr. Jenkins to give back to Luke. Unbeknownst to everyone, it's Luke's last meeting with the bookclub when Mr. Jenkins hands him the rabbit's foot. Luke gets all glassy-eyed, thanks Mr. J quietly before retreating to a corner and fiddling with the thing. "It really is lucky." Because they book the Orpheum that week.

[ximera-marrow]

Book Club Part 6

Masterlist

I know we keep saying to let us know with asks when y’all want more, but let’s be real, I’m only gonna stop if I run out of ideas or if Kenny Ortega himself requests it (in which case I would only surrender in exchange for a role in the show, hmu Kenny, I can sing).

With that being said, let’s go!

Cynthia (“please call me Cindy, dear”) Reynolds has been a long-standing member of the book club. She was there when it was started, and has been friends with Linda and Margie since grade school.

However, she doesn’t attend all too often. Very busy. All. The. Time.

Where her friends were quite content living lives of picket fences, Cindy can consistently be found rubbing elbows with Hollywood elites. She was quite the actress back in the day, but she much prefers the more casual glitz and glamor of the parties than actual fame.

Recently she’s taken it upon herself to assist her daughter in making waves in the acting world, so when she finally returns to the book club to find its new young members, she’s absolutely delighted!

“You boys MUST meet my daughter, Rachel! I assure you, she’s quite lovely. And I’m sure she would love to assist you boys in making some connections your band will need.”

The boys aren’t stupid. But they are sweet and eager.

Luke is excited because this lady is offering to help the band. Reggie is excited because, cool, new friend their age! Bobby is hoping she’s hot.

Alex smells something fishy. He’s seen that look in Cindy’s eyes before. This won’t end well.

Next week comes and Cindy brings Rachel along.

Luckily, no disaster occurs. Though it could’ve happened with a different group.

Rachel was obviously tense when she came in, but the book club regulars have always been good at putting people at ease.

It wasn’t easy though. Cindy practically threw the girl to the wolves, sitting her down right in the middle of the boys, so they could “get to know each other better.”

But even that potential disaster was circumvented by the boys’ demeanors. Alex was proud of his boys. They were flirts, but they wouldn’t dare make a nervous girl more uncomfortable on purpose.

By the end of the meeting she was laughing with the rest of them at Reggie’s interpretive performance of How The Great Gatsby Should’ve Ended.

Rachel got so comfortable around the guys, she didn’t much mind when Cindy more or less goaded the guys into inviting her to band practice the next afternoon.

As soon as Cindy dropped her off, Alex decided to address the elephant in the room.

Alex: “Uh. So... your mom. Really likes us?”

Rachel: “She likes that you guys are a promising band and that I’m a promising actress. I’m pretty sure her dream is to get famous grand babies.”

Reggie: “So your mom is trying to set you up with one of us? We’re flattered. And I’m available.”

Rachel: “That’s nice and all, but I’m not really interested in dating any guys.”

Bobby: “...oh. Ladies then? Cool. Hey Alex, you two could probably-”

Alex: “I’m gonna stop you right there.

Rachel: “What? No. Like just not dating at all. Not really a people person. Friends are cool though.”

Luke: “Yeah friends are cool.”

After that day, it became tradition for her to go on “date nights” to watch the band practice. The rest of the book club members know, but no one says a word to Cindy.

It’s Rachel and Cindy who help them land their gig at the Orpheum.

If she had known it would be their last performance, she would’ve been there for the sound check. They were the only guys who never expected more from her than what she was willing to give.

She made a promise to herself the very next day. Sunset Curve missed their shot at fame, so she’d just live that life for them. And she’d do it as herself, no matter what anyone had to say.

Present

Flynn bursts into the studio one day raving about an actress posting her support for Julie and the Phantoms.

Flynn: “I don’t know how she found out about us, but she’s my hero! She’s a gorgeous actress in her 40s, proudly out as ace! Do you have any idea how hard that is for someone in the spotlight?! And she’s A FAN! OF YOU GUYS!”

The guys were of course intrigued, but even more so when they read the name Rachel Reynolds.

Then when they actually read the post, Julie has to bring her boys into a group hug, knowing they’ll explain it later.

[stardancerluv]

New Beginnings

Part 4

Summary: Unexpected meetings lead to visits of the past.

Note: connection to the movie...what happened when Bill got back to Colorado after the movie.

You were so torn, you could not decide between two dresses. You held up one, then you held up the other one and then you held up the other one.

“Honey, you are so lovely.” You heard his muffled voice through the door. “Any dress is lucky to lay on you, or for that matter I am.” He chuckled.

You could see the gentle teasing smile that made the butterflies that had been napping wake up.

“I’ll be right out.” You felt your nervousness melt away because of his words.

You slipped the first dress off the hanger. Smoothening it you could not resist twirling. You loved how the skirt portion flared out. After pulling on the shoes, you fluffed your hair and finally opened the door. “I’m ready.”

Your breath caught in your throat, as you looked over and saw Bill leaning in the doorway of the balcony. You caught his profile. His eyes narrowed as he looked out at the sun which began to set. He was the image of handsome in his dark suit.

How had you caught his eye, you wondered. Going over to where he stood, you wrapped your arms around his middle. His cologne hung gently around him. It was him. Before its scent would bring you comfort after being apart, now it simply made the butterflies in you flap harder.

You heard him a deep sigh come from him and together you leaned against each other. It was comforting and sweet. “Ready to head down for dinner?”

“Yes, let's!”

*******

Over the table, he held your hand. You could not stop from flushing the entire time. Idly he pressed kisses here and there or he would brush your fingers against his beard as he studied the menu.

“Bill?” You giggled.

“Yes?” He looked around the menu.

“I can barely focus on the menu.” You giggled again.

“I suppose I can let you have your hand back, but I may take it later.”

“Perhaps I’ll let you have it.”

He rose an eyebrow, before looking once again at the menu.

You smiled. Finally having decided, you put your menu down. Looking around you smiled it was really lovely. “Where did you sit with the others when you were here?”

He put down the menu. “Over there by the piano.”

“Oh.” You nodded. “Nice. This is cozy.”

“I’m enjoying it more now.”

You flushed.

Soon, the waitress came over and took your orders.

“I didn’t see your clubs. You could have played a few rounds if you wanted.”

If there was one thing you made a promise to keep, it was not to nag Bill. Barbara sounded like a monster at times.

He shook his head. “I only play so I can socialize with the other professors. It’s terribly boring. To be honest,” Smiling and leaning forward, he reached out for your hand. “I have my hands filled now.” His smile grew playful and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. “And I have no desire to hold anything other than you.”

You looked away. The playful, mischievous glint in his eyes made knots form in your stomach. “Bill!”

“It’s true. Your hips feel much better than the steel of a nine iron.”

You blushed harder.

“Bill, Bill there you are!” Looking back at him you watched as his smile changed. Dread began to creep over you.

Turning, you watched an older woman you couldn’t place the name of walking over to the two of you. She had a man in tow, maybe it was her husband.

“Hello Margret, Thomas.” Bill nodded.

Her plastered smile fell when she reached the table and took a look at you. One reappeared but it looked different.

“Bill,” Her voice was tight, she barely glanced down at you again but it caused a shiver to go down your back. “When you said you were taking a long weekend and heading up here...” Her voice trailed off. “I had hoped you and Barbara were reconciling.”

You pulled your hand back. Tears welled in your eyes.

“Margret, this is Y/N. She is part of my new life.” Looking over at you, he gave you a brave face.

“Oh! So is this...?” You saw her fingers pointing at you, from the corner of your eye. “She’s so...” Her voice trailed off before she cleared her throat. “But I... Oh, well I had no idea.” Her voice had become flat.

“Margret, my divorce has been finalized.” Bill replied firmly. “I needed a breath of fresh air after all of it.”

The man tugged on her arm. “Margie, we umm...” You barely saw the grimace the man made. “We should go.”

“Actually,” You managed to say. “I need some air.” Pushing your chair back, you frowned.

“Honey.” He reached for you, beginning to get up.

You held a hand out. “I-I just need some air. I’ll be back.” You stumbled away.

You knew you should have been prepared for something like this happening. Bill had been wonderful but it hurt. Your heart hurt being spoken about like that.

Walking through the restaurant you spotted the signs for the ladies room. You immediately headed over to it. Once inside you glanced around and relief filled you that it was empty. Taking a breath, you leaned against the bathroom counter. You trembled. You were reminded of Barbara’s letter. Tears fell from your eyes.

You would always be the other woman. They didn’t know it wasn’t until this weekend, that the two of you acted on anything. The two of you had only been friends. You could still remember, he had come back from Oklahoma and everything changed.

******

You were surrounded by piles high and low of books, papers were scattered around. Somehow, you had managed to already write one-third of your incredibly long and involved paper on Medieval Life in the cities.

You were working on it downstairs since your AC had broken and it was cooler there. But it was still hot, so with a high pony tail, a sports bra and shorts, you managed to continue to type away on your laptop that was already hot in your lap.

A knocking broke through the low music you had playing to help keep focus. You jumped, stupid mailman you mused. You had told him to leave your mail in the box or by the door the next few days. The paper was kicking your ass, you barely left to get a bite to eat. You would not answer it. The knocking came again, only this time it was more persistent. Sighing, you got up. You would give him a piece of your mind.

You tore open you door prepared for the little weasel. Then you stopped and your mouth dropped open.

“Y/N.” His voice was raspy.

“Bill.” You managed to say. You took in the untucked light blue stripped shirt, jeans and sunglasses when he closed the distance.

He managed to scoop you up and close the door. He was holding you and you were holding him.

After all this time you finally got to feel his solid yet soft body. It caused a sound, which was anguish and pleasure combined as your arms went around him tighter and he moved with you. Mere breaths later your mouths had met and you were kissing. Your fingers entwined in his hair as the kiss grew more hungry and it pulled even more sounds from you than you knew you were capable of making.

With some moving and shuffling you collapsed onto your sofa. A giggle and a deeper breathy sound came from him as you landed right on him. It broke the kiss, he gave you a breathless confirmation that he was fine and once again you were kissing.

It all felt so right. In the back of your mind, you knew you should stop. Perhaps even ask him what is going on but his kisses and the feel of him, which you never realized was exactly what you needed, made you instantly addicted.

“Your perfect daughter is calling, please pick up.”

It was like a bucket of cold water when the ringtone played between the two of you. Moving back you let him answer.

He swallowed. “Thank you.” He mouthed. “Jean, are you ok?”

You couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“Are you sure?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Oh, Abigail isn’t there?”

He nodded.

“Give me twenty minutes. I’ll swing by and get you.” He frowned. “Of course it's ok, I only encouraged you since you were so excited.” He nodded again. “All right. Love you too, Jeanie Bear. Bye.”

He clicked his phone off and instead of stuffing it back into his back pocket, with a gentle toss it was on your coffee table. His hands rested on your thighs, but then he tore them away. One went to the back of the sofa and the other dangled.

Your were feeling torn and confused, along with very overtired from the paper. The heart in your chest continued to race hard from all that kissing. Not to keep the two of you uncomfortable you went to finally get up.

“No, please don’t.” He managed to croak out.

“But.” Was all you could say.

He moved to touch you. Pressing his lips together he went to speak, then stopped, then he went to speak again. “I’m sorry.” He pressed his lips together again and shook his head. “No, actually I’m not. I’ve been wanted to kiss you since the first time I watched as you tapped your stylist against your lips.”

You flushed.

“While Barbara, Jean and I were in Oklahoma, it ended. It ended for real between Barbara and I. The way she was with her family, the way she was to Jean. I left. I took Jean and we left. I couldn’t continue to have a life with her.”

“What?” Confusion wrinkled your brow.

“You have no idea. We got back. To feel some kind of joy, normalcy even, Jean decided to go to a party. My first choice is, was... You. I need you. So if you will have me, I want to be your man. I want to do right by you.”

“Yes. Please.” You were shook, no one had ever spoken to you like that.”

“What honey?” He grabbed your hands.

“Yes! Yes! I want to be yours.”

He pulled you to him. “Great!” He practically growled and kissed you. But he broke it and grew serious. “I have to go, I’m sorry.” You could see how stormy his blue eyes were. “But I will be back... and... and I will explain everything.“

*******

“Ma’am, excuse me. I think maybe your boyfriend or husband is out there.”

Startled, you turned to the woman’s voice. She brought you back from the day that had changed everything.

“What?” Your sigh was shaky.

“Your husband is our there. He’s worried and he wanted me to tell you he’s out there, but take all the time you need. He can wait,” You could practically see a thought crashing over her. “And he was terribly sorry about what happened.”

You wiped your face, and gave her a grin. “Thank you.”

You wiped away the last of your tears that had wanted to linger and pushed open the door.

“Honey.” His voice was strained.

You practically leapt at him, he managed to jostle and hold you. While you saw him hold onto what looked like food in containers in take away bags.

“Oh Bill.” You hugged him close.

You felt one of his hands in your hair. “I am so sorry. She and Barbara have been great chums, well as best as you can be with Barbara.”

“It’s ok.” You brought and placed your hand gently over his that held the bags. You met his eyes. “Our dinner?”

He nodded.

You smiled. “Let’s take it back to our room, eat and cuddle at our leisure.”

He smirked down at you. “That sounds like it could be a lot of fun.”

“Yes, especially since for some of it, we’ll be in bed.” Going on your tiptoes you kissed his chin, loving how his beard tickled your lips.

“All right, no more waiting. Let’s go."

@thebeckyjolene @blondekel77 @mrskenobi19